God Doesn't Limp
by IHeartHouse
Summary: House has met his match. She is as sarcastic, rude, and damaged as him, and they seem to have the perfect relationship. What happens when family and life get in the way? Completely AU! House/OC Set before season 1, but will eventually catch up.
1. Hope for the Hopeless

AN: This is my first stab at a fanfic, so I hope you enjoy. The first two chapters are kind of prologues and then the story really takes off after that. Each chapter is named after a song that has been used on House that has lyrics that describe the chapter, if that makes any sense. This is a completely AU story and the timing of events are a little OOC. I don't own House or any of the other characters from the show, although I wish I did. I do, however, own the Gallaghers.

Chapter One: Hope for the Hopeless

I was a little surprised to get the call two weeks ago from my older sister's childhood friend, Lisa Cuddy. Lisa and her family had lived next door to my family for as long as I could remember. I was never that close to Lisa, since her and my sister are eight years older than I am, but she was always nice to me growing up. We had kept in touch throughout the years, mostly to update each other on the lives of our families, and, over time, our relationship slowly evolved into a causal friendship. We were both very busy women, she was the dean of medicine for a hospital in Princeton, New Jersey and I was working for a prominent law firm in Los Angeles, and we rarely had time to talk anymore. In fact, when she called I hadn't spoken to her in six months. But when she asked me to come out to Princeton to head up the legal department at her hospital, I just knew I couldn't say no.

I was more than happy to leave sunny California for New Jersey. I was born and raised in Boston and I was looking forward to getting back to the east coast. The climate and lifestyle of Southern California never agreed with me. I tried the whole yoga craze, the blonde craze, even the vegetarian craze and all I had to show for it was a rocking body from the yoga, a desperate need to get my hair back to its roots, a gorgeous auburn, which I did the minute I arrived in Princeton, and a desire to eat meat.

I had moved out to Princeton only a week before and it was finally my first day at work. I was excited. I had spent the week exploring my new neighborhood, finding all the good places to eat and the good places to drink, but most importantly, I had spent the week actively trying to forget my life in California and start fresh in a new city with a new outlook on life. I slipped into my brand new outfit, bought especially for my new job, a pink and white tweed Chanel skirted suit with a stunning pair of knee high Manolo Blahnik stiletto boots. It had cost me more than my first car, but I had finally made it as a real attorney with a real six-figure salary, so it was worth it. I was no longer working for another attorney, no longer working on briefs until 3 in the morning, no longer doing my own research. I now had people to do that for me.

I arrived at my new home away from home, Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, bright and early at 8 am. It was a gorgeous hospital, located right on the outskirts of Princeton University itself. I walked right into the lobby and noticed that Lisa's office was nestled between the clinic and the nurse's station. I could see Lisa standing at the nurse's station speaking to a tall, lanky man wearing jeans and a black blazer over a faded pink dress shirt, leaning heavily on a wooden cane. I couldn't figure out if he was a disgruntled patient or maybe a disgruntled family member. As I got closer, I got a better look at this mystery man. I was intrigued. He had a five o'clock shadow, which I had always thought to be tremendously sexy, his salt and pepper hair looked as if it hadn't been combed in days and he had paired his business attire with Nike tennis shoes. His apparent disregard for his appearance was appealing, almost like he had more important things to worry about than whether or not his shirt was ironed. It seemed he and Lisa were having a disagreement about something.

"You know I can't do that!" he yelled at her.

"Well figure it out, House," Lisa snapped at him.

I walked right over to them, interrupting the conversation. "Lisa! Hi!" I greeted her. The man gave Lisa a dirty look.

"Isabella! How are you?" Lisa exclaimed, happy to see me and giving me a hug, which I uncomfortably returned. I had never been a big hugger.

I looked from Lisa to the mystery man and caught him looking me up and down. "I'm doing great. Am I interrupting?"

Lisa shook her head in exasperation. "No, we are done." She looked pointedly at the man before she continued. "Isabella, I would like to introduce you to Dr. House. He is the head of our Department of Diagnostic Medicine and is solely responsible for just about all our lawsuits." Dr. House made another face at Lisa. "Dr. House, I would like you to meet Isabella Gallagher. She is the new head of the Department of Legal Affairs."

I held out my hand to Dr. House and he shook it. "Well then Dr. House, I expect we will be seeing quite a bit of each other."

His face slowly broke into a smile as if it was a rare occurrence. "Call me Greg," he said, his voice dripping with masculinity.

Lisa looked at Greg as if he was speaking a foreign language. "Dr. House, could you go do your job without bothering me anymore today? I'm very busy."

"I'll try," he said sarcastically.

"It was nice meeting you, Greg," I told him, flashing him a smile, as I followed Lisa into her office. When I got to the door to her office, I glanced back and saw that he had been watching me walk away.

"That was weird. I don't think I have ever seen House be nice. To anyone." Lisa said, sitting down at her desk.

"Huh," I mumbled, although the information that this guy was uncharacteristically nice to me kind of made me happy. "So, Lisa, my God, this office is huge. How do you like being boss?" I asked, refocusing.

Lisa's face broke into a huge smile. "Well, I've been Dean of Medicine for five years now and I still love every minute of it. Plus, added bonus of being boss is you get to hire your friends, so I would say it is just about the perfect job."

"Yeah, Lisa, I can't tell you enough how grateful I am to you for taking this chance on me," I told her sincerely.

"I'm not taking a chance. I know you and I know you will be great." Lisa's great faith in people was one of her best and worst qualities.

"Yeah, but it couldn't have been easy to convince your board to hire me. I am barely 29 years old. I have been a lawyer for all of three years."

Lisa looked across the desk at me. "Yes, but you have already made a name for yourself as one of the toughest attorneys in Hollywood. Believe me, the board did not need much convincing. We need a shark like you on our side. Besides I need another young, hot woman in charge around here to help me keep all these grumpy old men in line."

I smiled at her, "See this is why I keep you around."

Lisa gave me a warm smile. "So how's Patrick and Rebecca?" she asked, referring to my twin brother and older sister.

"They're fine," I said. The truth was I hadn't spoken to Patrick in six months and Rebecca in over a year. We had been close growing up, especially Patrick and I, but after my parents had died, nothing was the same for any of us. It was easier to be on our own than to be around our siblings, who only served as reminders of our parents and the destroyed family we would never get back.

"That's good to hear," she told me, although I got the sense she didn't believe me.

I looked away from her and glanced around her office, taking in the rows of books and framed diplomas on the wall. "So what about you? How have you been?"

"I'm," she paused for second, thinking of something to say, and then, "busy," she finished, with a smile.

"Are you seeing anyone?" I asked, feigning interest in the mundane details of her life because that was the social game people played.

"Kind of sort of. He's a doctor over at Mercy West. We've been on a couple of dates," Lisa told me, a grin on her face. "What about you? How have you been doing since the break up?"

I looked away from her, not wanting her to see the hurt in my eyes. "I've definitely been better."

"I'm so sorry, Isabella."

I shrugged my shoulders at her. Talking about my personal pain was definitely not something I did with anyone, no matter how long I have known the person. "So, do I have a nice big office like yours?"

Lisa was taken aback by my sudden shift of topics, but she just shook it off. "Actually you do. It is on the fourth floor with an adjoining conference room and office for your personal assistant. We currently have two other lawyers in the department and their offices are next to yours. Would you like to see your office and meet your staff?"

"Of course!" I said, standing up.

We rode the elevator up to the fourth floor and Lisa took me to my office. It was beautiful. It had an exquisite oak wood door, with my name and title already in place. My desk was huge, complete with a leather ergonomic chair. A young man, probably in his early twenties, jumped up from the desk where he had been inputting data into the computer.

"Hi, Ms. Gallagher. I'm Will, your personal assistant," he said, thrusting his hand towards me. He was cute, in a California surfer boy kind of way. I laughed at the irony of a blond surfer dude as my assistant in the middle of New Jersey.

"Hi, Will. It's nice to meet you." I said, shaking his hand.

"Isabella, if you don't have any other questions, I have to get back to a situation with one of my doctors, but do you want to meet for lunch in the cafeteria?" Lisa walked back towards the elevator.

"Sounds great." I told her as she stepped into the elevator. I turned my attention back to Will. "So, Will, Dr. Cuddy told me that there are two other lawyers working here?"

"Yes there are. I can set up a meeting with them for later this morning. How does 11 sound?"

"Sounds good." I walked over to my desk and sat down. There was a Blackberry synching with the computer on my desk. "Is this yours?" I pointed to the Blackberry.

"No, that one is yours. I already set it up to sync with both your computer and mine."

I picked the phone up and smiled. 'Wow,' I thought, 'I get perks and everything.'

Will pointed to a small stack of files at the corner of my desk. "These are all the current cases we have at the moment. I can set up intake appointments with all these clients. When should I make those for?"

I looked at the files and counted about 6. "Go ahead and make those appointments for tomorrow. I'll be ready."

"Great, and what times can I make those appointments for?"

"Um, unless I say otherwise, you can just go ahead and make appointments between the hours of 9 and 4. That should work."

"Perfect. If you have any questions, just call me. I'll let you get to your reading."

"Thanks, Will." I watched him leave the room. I picked up the phone and started tooling around with it, when my desk phone beeped.

I pushed the intercom button, "Yes?"

"Ms. Gallagher, I have Dr. House here wanting to speak with you." Will told me.

I looked through the little window into Will's office and saw Dr. House standing there, looking into my office. Our eyes met for a brief second, before I responded to Will. "Send him in." I leaned back in my chair, waiting. The minute he walked in, I asked, "Having legal troubles already, Greg?"

He smirked a little and took a seat across from me. He fished a prescription bottle from his jacket pocket and took two white pills. "So, you are the new lawyer," he stated, looking around my office.

"Yes." I watched him tap his cane on the floor and thought it must be a nervous habit.

"And the youngest daughter of Drs. Owen and Kathleen Gallagher, authors of that big fancy nephrology textbook everyone uses." He watched me carefully as he spoke.

"Impressive. You know how to use the Internet," I snidely replied. "What else did you find out?"

He looked at me with a slight smile on his lips. "That you were at the top of your class at Georgetown, were immediately scooped up by the biggest entertainment law firm in Los Angeles and in the three years you were there you quickly made a name for yourself as a ruthless little pixie."

"Fascinating. You know my history better than I do," I said, a little smirk on my face.

"I was curious."

"Is your curiosity satisfied?"

His eyes locked onto mine. His stare was intense, like he was staring into my soul. "Not even close."

I leaned forward in my chair, placing both arms on my desk and intertwining my fingers. "You know, Lisa warned me about you, before I even moved out here."

His gaze did not waver. It only intensified. He had the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen, but there was a sadness, a hidden pain, that lay within. "Cuddy lies," he said, with just a hint of amusement.

"She said you were a Vicodin junkie, pain in the ass who would cause me more problems than anybody else on staff and all while inappropriately staring at my chest." I paused to watch his reaction, but I couldn't read him. He just sat there rubbing his stubbled chin. "Is that true?"

He looked away, tapped his cane three quick times and looked back at me. "Would you want to go to dinner with me. Tonight?" he asked, with a glint in his eye.

I was taken aback, but I didn't want him to see it. Instead I just stared into those stunning baby blue eyes of his and said, "You can pick me up at 7." I wrote my new address on a small piece of paper and handed it to him.

As he took it, his hand brushed over mine ever so slightly, but I could feel the heat. It was as if an electrical shock had shot down my spine. I could see in his eyes, he had felt it too. "All right then," he said and walked out of the office.

***********************************************************************************************************************************

The rest of my day went by in a blur. My little meet and greet with the other two attorneys, Daniel Paulson and Annette Woods, went very well. They seemed nice enough, but I had a feeling I wasn't going to become bestest best buds with them anytime soon. They got me up to speed on all outstanding cases and everything they were presently working on. At lunch with Lisa, I chose not to tell her about my dinner with Greg. There was something about the way the two interacted that told me nothing good would come from telling her. Finally, my day was done.

When I got to my apartment, I quickly threw my briefcase on one of the many still unpacked boxes in my living room and looked at the clock. He would be here in 20 minutes. I dashed into my bedroom and grabbed the dress I had mentally picked out on my way home. Throwing it on, I stood in front of the mirror, critiquing the finished product. The bright red mini dress hugged my body perfectly, showcasing my best features, namely my breasts and legs. I slipped into my black patent leather Jimmy Choo stiletto boots and walked into the living room. I fluffed my hair trying to put the bounce back into my curls and was pleasantly surprised when I saw I was successful. Then there was a knock at the door. I checked my reflection one more time and opened the door.

'God, is he sexy,' I thought. He was wearing a charcoal suit and sky blue dress shirt, opened at the collar, no tie and he had shaved. "Come in."

He could not take his eyes off me. "Wow," he said.

"Thanks, I think," I laughed. "Can I get you something to drink? I only have bourbon and Coke."

"I'll have a glass of bourbon," he said, his eyes caressing my curves.

"I was hoping you would say that." I smiled wide. "I'll be right back. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. Sorry about all the boxes."

I brought out two glasses of bourbon and found him sitting on the couch, his cane causally draped over his legs. I handed him a glass and took the other.

He tipped his glass at me and said, "Cheers." He took a sip and then looked around my rather small apartment. "You know, I would have thought the daughter of world famous, book writing doctors would be living in a nicer apartment."

"Yeah, well I would rather spend my parents' money on designer clothes," I told him truthfully, taking a drink of my bourbon. "So, do you live around here?"

"Over by the university more," he answered, a faint smile on his lips.

I leaned in towards him and placed my hand on his leg. "Greg, I'm going to be honest, I don't like small talk. I want to talk about real things, not bullshit about our likes and dislikes."

His gaze went from my hand on his leg to my eyes. I could see the unmistakable hint of glee in his eyes. "I like that in a woman."

"Good, then can I ask you a personal question?"

A devilish grin crept onto his face. "Sure. I can't guarantee I'll answer it honestly."

I giggled a little. "Fair enough." I paused, "Lisa told me you were a miserable misanthrope who hid in his office and avoided human interactions like the plague. And yet, you seek me out after a brief two-minute conversation. Why?"

"Oh, don't ruin it. Are you really that naïve?"

"Huh, so this decision was made solely by your penis." I took a swig of my drink.

"Why does that surprise you? You are an extremely attractive woman with a zesty bod. Plus, I figured you didn't know too much about me yet, so the odds that you would go out with me were high." He took another sip from his glass.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy who extends dinner invitations to women just because they are attractive without knowing anything else about them."

He looked deeply into my eyes. "What kind of guy do you think I am?"

"Well, it's obvious you don't suffer fools, so I can't imagine you would date a woman you do not respect, who you think is a moron. Have sex with, yes, but have dinner with, spend an evening with, no."

He said nothing for a second as he downed the last of his bourbon. "Why did you agree to have dinner with me? I am almost ten years older than you and Cuddy had already shared her opinion of me with you."

"You intrigued me because of what Lisa had told me." I told him with a slight smile. "Did you think I wouldn't agree?"

"I thought I had a chance. You are not afraid to speak your mind and you don't tolerate bullshit, which often bodes well for me. I need a woman who can keep up with my acerbic wit." He smiled at me.

I leaned in closer, until our noses were almost touching. "Believe me, I can keep up. Besides, I think your acerbic wit is charming."

His hand ran slowly up my thigh, stopping right at my hemline. "Many find it annoying," he breathed.

He moved closer, tossing his cane aside. "Those people are not worth our time," I whispered before succumbing to his kiss.

It was electric. I cannot remember the last time I felt this kind of connection on a first date. There was something about him, something about the spark when we touched, that told me this relationship, however it turns out, would be unlike anything I had experienced before. His cheek was soft against mine. His hand slipped up the side of my dress and rested on my hip as he gently pushed me backwards into my couch. I ran my fingers through his hair as his body covered mine. His hands were everywhere as he kissed me, sliding up my back, running along my legs. His touch was electrifying and I never wanted him to stop.

"Let's go somewhere a little more comfortable," I suggested as his kissed my neck.

He hesitated for what seemed like forever. Finally, he said, "We should probably get to the restaurant." He sat up and grabbed his cane like a security blanket. The sadness I had noticed in him before seemed to return, as if it was his natural state of being.

"You're kidding, right?" I said, as he rubbed his right leg, grabbing a few pills from his pocket with the other hand, and suddenly I knew the source of his sadness and why he was hesitating. "What happened to your leg?" I asked softly.

He looked down and continued to rub his leg. "I had an infarction in my thigh. It was diagnosed too late, causing muscle death, which the idiot surgeons then removed," he told me matter of factly, punctuating the statement with a loud thud from his cane.

"And so, because of that you can't have any fun?" I pulled him back towards me by his collar and kissed him, passionately. "Look, I hate all those dating games people play, so I am going to cut the bullshit and just lay it all on the line for you." He finally met my gaze as I continued, "I can't explain it, but I feel something powerful between us. I felt it the minute we shook hands this morning. I have never felt this kind of connection before. Now if you feel the same way, I think we should explore this to its fullest right now. If you don't, then we should go to dinner and take it from there."

He was silent for a minute, searching my eyes. Then, as his gaze settled on my breasts, he asked, "Where's your bedroom?"

I smiled and got up from the coach. "It's right this way." I held out my hand and he grabbed it. I led him into the bedroom and lay down on the bed. He threw his cane on the floor and climbed in next to me. We undressed each other quickly and then made passionate love for the first time. Somehow, I knew it would not be the last. Afterwards, I lay on my back wrapped in his strong, muscular arms, my head resting on his chest.

"So are you Catholic or Anglican?" he asked, casually breaking the silence.

I was a little shocked by his question, not exactly sure what he was talking about. "What?"

"With a name like Gallagher, hair that red, skin that porcelain white and freckles covering ninety percent of your body, I assume your Irish. I was just wondering what part of the island."

"Wow, that is a really roundabout way to ask me where I'm from," I joked.

He shrugged his shoulders. "It's more fun for me this way."

I chuckled a little to myself before I spoke. "Well, I'm neither, but my parents were Irish Catholics who came here from Dublin when they first got married."

"Interesting," he muttered to himself. We fell back into the silence for a few more minutes, just enjoying the moment.

As he lazily stroked my arm, I asked, "So are you really as miserable and damaged as everyone seems to think you are?"

His hand moved from my arm to my stomach as he thought of an answer. "Miserable, no. Damaged, probably."

"What made you so damaged?"

"If I tell you, you have to tell me what made you so damaged."

"Why do you think I'm damaged?" I asked, a little taken aback by his statement.

"Nobody who moves clear across the country for a job is completely whole. And most women who are as blunt as you are have become that way as a survival mechanism because somewhere along the way, someone broke them."

I was quiet for a minute, knowing full well that he was right. "Okay, it's a deal."

He grabbed me tighter around the waist, as if he was desperate for as much human contact as he could get. "Well, the leg thing is pretty obvious. I live in constant, continuous pain. When it happened, the woman I was living with, who was also my medical proxy, made the decision, against my wishes, to remove the damaged muscle, essentially crippling me. About six months after the surgery, in the middle of my rehab, she left. I don't really have much family. I'm an only child and I don't get along with my father. Stacy was just about the only family I had ever really been able to count on and then she, well she did what she did."

I was shocked by his admission. From what Lisa had told me about him, I had gathered that he didn't talk about himself or his feelings to anyone and it was that characteristic that the people around him found most frustrating, but I had identified with. The ease with which he had confided in me only served to reinforce what I had already guessed: there was a strange, unexplainable pull between the two of us. I rolled over onto my side to face him and caught him just staring at the ceiling.

When he felt me move, he looked over at me. "Your turn," he told me, with a forced smile.

I looked down, not quite wanting to meet his eyes. "My parents died in a car crash when I was a junior in high school, which I assume you already knew." I glanced up at him and he quietly nodded his head in confirmation. I looked away and continued my story, "After they died, my older sister waited around long enough to see me and my brother graduate and then moved to London as quickly as she could with her share of the small fortune we inherited. My brother and I almost immediately moved away to different colleges. I don't talk to either of them much anymore. It's not that I hate them or anything; it's just easier this way. My law school boyfriend, who I moved out to California with because I thought he might be the one, ended up cheating on me after seven years together. We broke up four months before I moved here."

I felt his hand on my cheek and I closed my eyes, just wanting to feel his touch. He gave me a kiss. "That guy was an idiot," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I chuckled, "Yeah, well the blonde bimbo he's fucking doesn't think so."

He gave me a genuine smile. "I told you. You are just as damaged as I am."

"Do you think there is any hope for us?" I asked, quietly.

"Hope is for sissies," he answered, with just a hint of sarcasm.

"Great, so we are damaged AND hopeless," I shot back, with a little smile.

He gave me another kiss, a deeper kiss. As he broke the kiss, he gave me a look that made me feel as if he was gazing into my soul. "Look, I am not any good at the big romantic speeches or gestures, but I agree with what you said earlier this evening, about feeling a strong connection."

I lightly stroked his cheek. "Good," I said quietly.

"Ditch this dumpy apartment and move in with me." He looked into my eyes, watching for a reaction.

I couldn't believe it. 'This was crazy. I cannot move in with a man I have known for less than 24 hours.' I thought. But something in my gut told me the right answer. "Okay, yeah, let's do it."


	2. Good Man

**AN: This is my first stab at a fanfic, so I hope you enjoy. The first two chapters are kind of prologues and then the story really takes off after that. Each chapter is named after a song that has been used on House that has lyrics that describe the chapter, if that makes any sense. This is a completely AU story and the timing of events are a little OOC. I don't own House or any of the other characters from the show, although I wish I did. I do, however, own the Gallaghers and Meredith Sawyer.**

**Chapter Two: Good Man**

**One Year Later**

I walked into the hospital cafeteria and saw Greg sitting with James Wilson, the head of the oncology department and his best friend, at one of the far tables. James had been Greg's friend for years. I honestly do not know how James has put up with Greg for as long as he has, but James is the one person, besides me, that would be there for Greg no matter what, through the insanity and everything. James was a great guy, almost too great. He was a bit of an enabler, which I am sure is what drove Greg to him in the first place, but he always meant well. Over the past year, I had grown very close to James. He was the only other person in Greg's life who really understood what loving and caring for Greg entailed, so we were often sounding boards for each other when we couldn't decipher Greg's particular brand of crazy. While he wasn't exactly my type, he was very handsome and I could never really figure out why he had the amount of trouble he had with women. He has two ex-wives, but he has been dating a neurologist from Greg's department for the past six months, which annoyed Greg to no end. I actually really liked her and I liked them together, which annoyed Greg even more.

I marched right over to the table. "Hey," I greeted the two of them. I sat down next to Greg, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and stole one of his French fries.

"Can you believe this woman? She is always stealing my food," Greg said to James.

"Annoying, isn't it? When someone is constantly taking your food?" James asked Greg, sarcastically.

Greg faked laughter, "You're talking about me, aren't you?" James just smirked at him.

"Greg, go get me a sandwich please. My feet hurt and I don't want to get up again," I told him with a smile.

"Oh, your feet hurt? My leg hurts. Go get your own sandwich," he took a giant bite of his sandwich.

"It's always a competition with you. A grilled cheese would be great." I told him as he shook his head at me and then decided to get up. I watched him as he walked over to the lunch line.

"So, James, are you and your lady still coming over tomorrow?" I asked him, eating another of Greg's French fries.

"Of course. Now, I am assuming you are ordering in from somewhere?" He teased me.

"No, I will be cooking."

"Seriously? Are we having peanut butter sandwiches and soup? Because between the two of you, your collective cooking skills are atrocious."

"Ha ha. Very funny."

James rolled his eyes at me and then gave me a warm smile. "So, what's the deal? I have known House for almost six years and not once has he celebrated Thanksgiving. He knows you a year, and you have him hosting Thanksgiving dinner. How did you do it?"

"I didn't do anything. Believe me I would rather not celebrate at all, but his parents wanted us to come Lexington for Thanksgiving. He couldn't lie to his mother so Thanksgiving with you was an easy out."

"Wow, I'm touched," James said sarcastically.

"Hey you asked," I told him.

Greg returned to the table, my grilled cheese in hand. "More of my fries are missing. Who stole them?"

"Well, I'd love to see the conclusion of this exciting episode of 'Who stole my fries' but I have a consult in five minutes. See you later." James picked up his tray and walked away.

"Bye!" I waved.

"Tell me why you are forcing me to have Thanksgiving dinner with them again?" Greg asked, in between bites of his Rueben.

"Because you are the only adult on Earth who can't lie to his mother," I said, taking a bite of my sandwich.

"Oh, right. You are so lucky your parents are dead," he said, a little grin on his face.

"You're an ass," I told him with a slight smile.

His grin grew larger. "It is definitely possible," he said, drinking from his soda. "But why do we have to dinner with both of them?"

"Because they are a couple and most normal couples like to spend holidays with each other."

"But I don't like Sawyer," he whined.

"Good God Greg, I know. You tell me every chance you get," I said, feigning exasperation.

"Well, then I would think you would've gotten it by now."

I let out a big laugh. "I have, I just don't care. Besides if you really didn't like her as much as you say you don't you would have fired her." He rolled his eyes at me in response.

Just then, Dr. Cameron, one of Greg's Fellows, walked over to our table. She was pretty harmless, but she annoyed me. Her naivety was gag inducing and her insane moral compass drove her to my office almost everyday to tattle on something Greg or the other Fellows had done. She hasn't worked for Greg for very long but I got the impression that she had a major crush on him.

"Hi, Isabella," she said tersely to me. I don't think she likes me very much. I knew she was jealous that I had landed Greg, and she couldn't. While she was always professional, she never put any extra effort into her civility. "House, we have a new patient. I brought you the file."

"We can only have a new patient if I admit a new patient, and since I haven't admitted anyone, how can we have a patient?" he asked sarcastically.

I looked from Greg to Cameron. She looked annoyed, but I couldn't tell if it was at me or at him.

"Chase admitted her from the ER fifteen minutes ago. She is a pregnant, nonalcoholic 26 year old with liver failure." Cameron stood over the table, with her hands on her hips.

Greg looked over the file she handed him. "How bad?"

"Her LFT's are through the roof. She's dangerously close to losing the baby and needing a new liver."

"Get a full hepatitis panel and patient history. Gather up the other kiddies when you're done and meet me in my office," he said, handing her the file.

She took the file back and walked away. "God, she's annoying." Greg said after she left.

I giggled at him. "So, you want anything special for dinner tonight? I was thinking about just ordering a pizza."

"Would you ever want to get married?" he asked, throwing a French fry into his mouth.

I almost choked on my food. "What? Where did that come from?"

"I hear girls expect marriage after a certain point," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Greg, you are being ridiculous. I don't need to be married and you know that."

"What if I was actually asking?" he asked, before taking a swig of his soda.

"This is how you are going to ask me to marry you? In the middle of the hospital cafeteria, in between bites of our sandwiches?" I asked, incredulous.

"Would you prefer I got down on one knee and gave you a million dollar ring?"

"No, of course not," I answered, feeling overwhelmed by what was happening.

"Well, then I guess I need to return this." He slid a tiny red, ring box over to me that looked suspiciously like a Cartier box.

I sat there, speechless, staring at that box as thoughts of the past year swarmed in my head. Greg was not an easy man to be with. He was withdrawn and moody. He was obsessive and introspective and rarely shared those introspective thoughts with me. He was reckless and arrogant. But I loved every second with him because of those character traits. All of the things about him that annoyed and pissed off everyone else in his life, I found refreshing and very close to my own personality. The past year had been tough, yes, but that wasn't all his fault. I am sure I am not the easiest person to live with either. I was moody, withdrawn, obsessive, arrogant and any other adjective that has been used to describe Greg. And I realized I would never find a more perfect compliment to my own particular neurosis.

I opened the box and saw the most beautiful ring I had ever seen. It was a three stacked 18-carat white gold wedding band with pave diamonds around the circumference of all three bands. I recognized it as part of the Tank Francaise collection from Cartier. It was just the kind of ring Greg would have picked out for me, simple and elegant, yet flashy enough for a doctor's wife. He must have spent a small fortune on it.

"Oh. My. God," each word became its own sentence. "Greg, this is absolutely gorgeous." I took the ring out of the box and turned it around in my hands. The diamonds were perfect and they shone brightly, even under the fluorescent lights of the cafeteria. "But, I had no idea you wanted to get married."

"You are the one. We should make it official," he said, offhandedly, punctuating his statement with a shrug of his shoulders. Outside observers might take offense to this apparent disinterest, but this was just his nature. I was actually more blown away by his nonchalance than I ever could be with any overblown romantic gesture because this relaxed attitude meant that he believed this was just the way it should be, this was what was right, this was the natural order.

"Okay, let's do it. But let's do it tonight, at the courthouse. I have connections. I can get us in right away. Oh my God, we're going to get married," I said, holding his head in both hands. I kissed him, excitedly.

"Come back to the office and I'll draw some blood for the marriage license," he said, in between kisses. "Oh, wait!" he exclaimed. He took the ring from me and looked into my eyes. Without breaking his gaze with me, he silently took my hand and slipped the ring on my finger. "There, now we can go."

"Wow, it's amazing how well diamonds and white gold go with my outfit. Oh, but I am not changing my name. House is weird." I told him with a smile, as we got up.

"Can I change my name, then?" He followed me out of the cafeteria.

"No, you may not," I smiled at him.

After stopping at the supply closet, we went back to his office to draw the blood. I took off my jacket and rolled up my sleeve. As he inserted the syringe into my arm, his Fellows walked into the office.

"Hi, guys." I greeted them.

Aside from Allison Cameron, I generally liked Greg's Fellows. Dr. Cameron was an immunologist. She was not stereotypically pretty, but she had the long legs, tiny waist and long chestnut hair most men fell over themselves just to get near. She was married once, but he had died and so now she spent her free time pining over Greg. Then there was Dr. Robert Chase, an intensivist in Greg's department, whose father had known my parents. I liked Chase. He was charming and extremely handsome, with a sexy Australian accent to top it all off. The last of Greg's Fellows was James's girlfriend, Dr. Meredith Sawyer, a neurologist. She was one of those girls that had huge self-esteem problems in high school, but really came into her own in college. She could be pretty dorky and had a goofy sense of humor, but looked like a Barbie doll. We had grown quite close over the six months she had been dating James, mostly because she was someone to talk to while James and Greg were playing poker or watching baseball games, but over time we began hanging out without them. Lisa and I have had kind of a rocky relationship since I started living with Greg and Meredith sort of filled that requisite girlfriend role for me.

Greg put the vial of blood in a plastic bag with my name on it. "Chase, come over here and draw some blood, will you?" He placed the tourniquet on his arm and handed Dr. Chase a new syringe.

"What's going on?" Chase asked, taking the syringe from Greg.

"We are getting married tonight. What's happening with our patient?" he asked as Chase finished drawing the blood.

Meredith gave me a little hug, "Congratulations!"

I smiled at her, "Thanks."

I glanced at Cameron and saw her face fall. "You're getting married? Tonight?"

"Yeah, I already said that. What's going on with the patient, on the other hand, is still a complete mystery to me," he said, annoyed.

I touched his arm and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I'll be back at 5. We have to leave no later than that. I'm going to go pick out a wedding band for you."

He looked right at me and said, "I love you."

I smiled at him, "I love you too." I walked out of the office, so he could get to his differential. "Oh, I almost forgot, don't forget to tell James. And Meredith, if you don't have to work, I'd love for you to come. We will need you guys as our witnesses," I said, poking my head back into the office.

"I'll try," Meredith called out to me as I ran off.

I had so much to do, but I knew that Lisa would hate me forever if I didn't tell her, so I quickly ran down to her office on the first floor. When I was approaching her office, I noticed that she was sitting at her desk, alone.

"I have news," I said, as I walked into the office.

Without looking up, she said, "You finally took my advice and left House?" She liked Greg and respected him as a doctor, but she felt that a misanthropic drug addict like him did not deserve to be with a beautiful, intelligent and successful woman like me. She thought I was too good for him. In fact, her insistence that I come to my senses and leave him is a big factor in our deteriorating personal relationship.

I paused, biting my lower lip. "Um, not exactly. We're getting married. Tonight."

Lisa immediately looked up at me. "You're what? Isabella, you can't be serious."

"I am serious. Look, Lisa, I know how you feel about him. You have made it quite clear. But I love him and he loves me. I feel good about this. Can you be happy for me?"

Lisa looked at me, "Well, I guess if you are happy, I am happy for you. I just can't believe that you would want to commit to that caustic jackass for the rest of your life," she said with a slight smile.

"Be nice, Lisa," I smiled back at her. "Lisa, I would love it if you would come to the courthouse tonight."

She got up from her desk and walked over to me. "I wouldn't miss it," she said, giving me a big hug.

"Thank you."

**********************************************************************************************************************************

The rest of the day was a blur. I ran out to New York City to pick up a wedding band for Greg. I finally settled on a simple platinum band from Cartier as well. It was sleek and not too girly, no diamonds, so I knew Greg would actually wear it. I made an appointment at the courthouse with my good friend, Judge Ashley Jones and she agreed to perform the ceremony for us at 6 pm. By the time I got back into Princeton, it was time to pick up Greg, James and Lisa. We raced over to the courthouse.

"Thank you so much for coming, James and Lisa. This means a lot to us, even though Greg would never admit it." I teased.

"Are you kidding? I had to see Greg House getting married for myself. Otherwise I would not have believed it," James said.

"Your support is touching." Greg said sarcastically.

Lisa turned to me, "Okay, last chance. There is still time to run."

I smiled at her as Greg said, "God, Bella, did you only invite people based on their ability to annoy me?"

"No, but it is a nice added bonus." I turned to Greg, getting serious. "Are you ready? Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I am always sure." He leaned down and kissed me.

"You couldn't have at least put on a tie?" I asked, as I straightened his collar and smoothed out his jacket.

"Well I could have, but then I would have been lying about the kind of person I am. Do you want to marry a liar?"

"You are a liar," I teased.

He broke into a smirk and said, "I never lie."

The court assistant came into the hallway, interrupting me before I could think of a witty retort. "We are ready for you."

"Okay, here we go. In about ten minutes, I will achieve what every little girl dreams of. I will become a doctor's wife. My sister will be so proud," I joked.

"Your sister will be proud, House's mom will probably die of shock," James said, sarcastically.

"You are just a riot, you know that?" Greg grabbed my hand, "Let's go, before Wilson thinks of anything else clever to say."

James and Lisa laughed as we walked into the courtroom. Within fifteen minutes we were married. We had become Dr. and Mrs. House. It was a weird feeling, but I had known from the minute I had seen him across the lobby one year ago that someday we would be wearing matching rings, completely committed to each other. I had never been happier and neither had he.


	3. Love and Happiness

**AN: Each chapter is named after a song that has been used on House that has lyrics that describe the chapter, if that makes any sense. This is a completely AU story and the timing of events are a little OOC. I don't own House or any of the other characters from the show, although I wish I did. I do, however, own the Gallaghers and Meredith Sawyer. Okay…so now that we have established the relationship with the first two chapters, on to the nitty gritty of their life together! Sorry about the long delay between chapters and thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. You guys are awesome!**

**Chapter Three: Love and Happiness**

**One Year Later**

I was lying on my side in our bed, silently listening for the tell tale signs of his arrival. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand, noticing the empty pill bottles strewn about and made a mental note that I should probably clean the apartment soon. It was 1:30 in the morning. He rarely stayed at work this late. There must have been a complication with his patient. I nervously fingered my wedding band, hoping he wasn't lying in a ditch somewhere, bleeding to death after crashing on his motorcycle. Then, I heard it.

The front door creaked slowly open, followed by the familiar thump of his cane. He shuffled around in the living room for a few minutes, no doubt taking off his overcoat and blazer. Finally, I heard him limp towards the bedroom and then stop right outside the door. I kept still, pretending to sleep. I had to get up early and I knew if he knew I was awake, I wouldn't get to sleep for another hour, at best. I could feel him looking in at me from the doorway, trying to ascertain if I was asleep or not. After a few seconds, he decided to come in the room.

He walked over to the bed, his lopsided gait echoing through the room. I felt the mattress give under his weight as he sat on the bed. He set his cane up against the nightstand and grabbed one of the half empty bottles of Vicodin. The rhythmic rattle of the bottle as he shook his pills out was oddly soothing in the stillness of the night. I felt the weight of his hand on my hip as he lay down. As his body got closer and closer to mine, I felt his stubble on the back of my neck, then his hot breath.

"I know you're not asleep," he whispered in my ear as he leaned into me.

I kept my back to him as I answered. "I left some macaroni and cheese out for you. Did you see it?"

"Did you make it especially for me?" His stubble scratched at my cheek as he smiled.

"Of course not. I made it for myself, but couldn't finish it," I said, grinning, as I rolled over to face him.

"Well, good, cause I ate at the hospital." He rolled onto his back and began rubbing his right leg.

I glanced at his leg, but decided not to say anything at the moment. "What took you so long? Was Lisa wearing a low cut top or something?" I asked, making fun of his lack of discretion when it came to attractive women and their wardrobe choices.

He stopped rubbing his leg and gave me that devilish smirk of his. "Good guess, but no. My patient coded as I was walking out the door. I had to go back in because I have morons working for me."

"Well, I assume your patient is either stabile or dead, cause otherwise you wouldn't be home."

"Stable. I made my peeps stay to monitor. I told them I had to go home and get some."

"Oh, yeah? How did you know I would be awake?" I asked, a smirk on my face, as I cuddled up to him.

"You are always still awake when I get home," he said, putting his arm up behind his head.

"It's cause you are so loud when you come in. You wake me up." I smiled at him as I placed a hand on his chest.

I felt his hand travel up my back and find a resting spot right between my shoulder blades. "That's a low blow," he said with mock indignation. "You know cripples can't move quietly."

He looked down at me with his gorgeous blue eyes and in that moment he had me. Even after two years together, I am simply powerless to resist him when he looks at me like that. He moved his hand to the back of my neck, leaned down, and gently placed his lips on mine. I returned the kiss, as I allowed him to move my body underneath his. His hands moved slowly up my smooth bare legs as he kissed my neck. His hand came to rest on my hipbone and I could feel him shifting his weight off his right leg as he held onto my hips. He used his other hand to lift my shirt, reveling my flat stomach, as I unbuttoned his dress shirt. I ran my hand through his hair as he leaned down to kiss me right along the edge of my white lace panties.

Ring! The sound of a phone pierced the evening silence. There was a deep groan of frustration as his head fell onto my stomach. "Don't get up. Where did you leave it?" I asked as I extricated myself from underneath him.

Ring! "It's in my jacket pocket on the couch," he mumbled into my stomach.

Ring! I ran down the hall and into our living room. I picked up his charcoal blazer and found the annoyance in his outside pocket.

"Hello?" I found my way back to our room and plopped down on the bed. I noticed he had already turned on the lamp sitting on our nightstand, but was just lying there, rubbing his leg.

The person on the other end of the phone hesitated, "Um, is House available?" a male voice finally asked.

"Ugg," I groaned as I tossed the phone onto his chest. "It's Chase."

"What? Was I not clear when I told you I had to go home?" he barked into the phone. He paused as he listened to Chase. "I'll be right in," he told him as he hung up.

He turned to me. I was already back in bed under the comforter. "You have to go in?" I asked, annoyed.

He somberly nodded his head. "You could come with me." He began buttoning his shirt back up.

I let out a giggle. "You're crazy. It's only 2 am and I don't need to be at work for another five hours."

"Fine, but I have to go. Stop by the office when you get in and I will take you to breakfast to make up for being interrupted," he said, smiling, as he stood up.

"Unless you plan on having sex with me at breakfast, it doesn't really make up for it," I said, grinning.

"That could be arranged. I'll see you when you get in." He leaned down to give me a kiss, then grabbed his cane and started walking out the door. As he passed through the doorway, I saw him glance back at me out of the corner of my eye. Almost begrudgingly, he turned and walked down the hallway. I watched his shadow limp towards the front door and noticed he was favoring his right side much more than usual. I decided to talk to him about it, but it could wait until tomorrow. I snuggled into my pillow and drifted off to sleep.

After what felt like only a minute, the alarm went off. I looked over at the empty side of the bed, sighed and got up. As I got in the shower, I just let the water pour over me. "It is way too early," I mumbled to myself. When, I finally got up the energy, I quickly showered and dressed in a soft pink blouse, cream colored jacket and a matching pencil skirt. Making my way into the living room, I grabbed my briefcase and car keys and left.

When I finally got to the hospital, I went straight to Greg's office. I was hungry and I had a meeting at 9, so I wanted to get to breakfast quickly. When I got to his office, I noticed that the blinds were closed and the lights were off. So I went in quietly and crept over to him, sleeping in his chair at his desk. I lightly kissed him, waking him up.

"Good morning, I came for breakfast," I whispered to him.

He smiled at me, groggily. "What time is it?" he asked, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"Almost 8. Did you still want to catch some breakfast?" I sat down on the edge of his desk.

"Uh, fine, whatever." He sounded distant.

"What's up? Did something happen this morning? You seem distracted."

"My mind is elsewhere, I guess." He looked at the floor as he grabbed a pill from his pocket and swallowed it.

I placed my hand on his shoulder. "Where? What is on your mind?"

"It's nothing. So, breakfast or sex in the supply closet? Cause I'm up for either. Your boobs are looking especially nice in that top."

I knew he wasn't fine, but Greg wouldn't be Greg if he opened up to me every chance he got about his emotional woes. "Haha, let's just grab some breakfast."

"Fine," he said as he grabbed his black sports coat off the chair. We walked out of his office and into the elevator.

"So what is happening with your patient?" I asked as we rode the elevator down to the cafeteria.

"She has a brain tumor. Sawyer is trying to get consent to operate," he told me as we exited the elevator. We walked into the cafeteria, going straight into the line. I grabbed a bagel and cream cheese and a nice, big soda and he grabbed a bowl of cereal with a cup of coffee. I held our tray, while he paid, then we found a seat and sat down.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I need a refill on my birth control pills." I took a long sip from my Coke.

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a prescription pad and pen. As he began writing he said, "Sometimes I think the easy access to prescription medication is the only reason you keep me around." He handed me the filled out slip.

"Well it's not the only reason, but it is a huge plus." I leaned in and gave him a kiss. "So, what time do you think you will be home tonight?"

"Probably early. As soon as my patient goes in for surgery, I am going to leave."

"Oh, great! So you will definitely be home for dinner?"

He ate a spoonful of his Cap'n Crunch and looked right at me. "Why do I get the feeling you are setting me up for something?"

I grinned, a little devilishly, "Just make sure you are home by 6. I am actually making dinner tonight."

"Alright. What time are you leaving?" he asked, taking out a pill and washing it down with his coffee.

"Around noon. I have a few things to wrap up and then I am off until New Years. Vacay!" I giggled, taking a bite of my bagel.

"How is it you only have two people working for you and you get a vacation, whereas I have three people working for me and I don't?"

"You do too get vacation, you just don't take it," I teased.

"Maybe I will start." He finished off the last of his cereal.

"Wait a minute, did hell just freeze over?" I poked fun at him.

Greg let out a loud fake laugh. "Oh, you. So clever." He drank from his coffee cup. "So, come on tell me what is going on tonight."

"No." I looked at my Chanel diamond and pink sapphire wristwatch, a first anniversary present from Greg, or rather a present I bought for myself with Greg's money on our first anniversary two weeks ago. "Oh, shit, I have to get to my meeting. Please don't be late, tonight."

"What if I am?" he teased.

I stood up from our table and rolled my eyes. "I'll probably leave you," I joked. "Oh, look there's James," I pointed across the cafeteria. "Go annoy him for a while." I told him as I walked away.

***********************************************************************************************************************************

By the time I had finished up at work and gone to the grocery store, it was already 4. When I got home, I immediately made my way into the kitchen and dropped off my grocery bags. 'God, look at this place.' I thought to myself as I looked around the living room. There were at least 5 empty and a dozen more full prescription bottles strewn around the living room and bathroom, medical journals and files scattered on almost every flat surface, and various articles of clothing laying on different pieces of furniture. 'I have to at least pick up the prescription bottles. I can't have people thinking we're junkies,' I thought to myself.

I started in the bathroom. I threw the few empty prescription bottles on the counters and floor into a trash bag. 'God, why can't he throw his things in the trash?' I asked myself as I wiped off the counter. I quickly made my way into the living room, tossing empty pill bottles into the trash bag and consolidating the rest as I went. Then I grabbed our various jackets and overcoats and hung them up in our hall closet. "Excellent. At least now we look like a professional couple and not slobs," I said out loud, as I finished straightening the various medical journals and law articles on the coffee table. It wasn't that Greg and I were dirty. Our home was very clean, but it was disorganized and messy. Keeping our apartment tidy was not something that was high on either of our lists, but every once in a while the clutter got to be too much and I had to pick up.

I glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost 5:00. 'Right on schedule,' I thought. I decided to put on a little music while I cooked. I searched and searched through our CD collection before finally settling on Mike Ness's country album, _Cheating at Solitaire_. When I got into the kitchen, I pulled out the four steaks I had bought at the grocery store. As I was seasoning the steaks and placing them in the oven, I heard a key turn in the front door lock.

"Bella? I'm home," Greg called into the apartment. "Hey, who cleaned?"

I walked out of the kitchen to greet him. He threw his overcoat down on the couch and as I walked towards him, I picked it back up and put it in the closet. "I did. Honestly Greg, we can't be slobs. Now give me a kiss for being a good wife."

He grabbed me around the waist with his empty hand and pulled me close. He leaned down and kissed me, softly at first. I wrapped my arms around his neck, inviting a more passionate kiss. Tossing his cane aside, he placed his other hand on my ass, grabbing it lightly, as he deepened our kiss. I parted my lips, allowing our tongues to meet, as I felt his left hand moving towards my breasts. I caressed his cheek with one hand and reached inside his jacket with the other, settling on his lower back. Without breaking the kiss, he backed me into the couch. I leaned up against the back of the couch, allowing him to unbutton my shirt. Once he had pushed my shirt open, he leaned back a little to take it all in. I watched his eyes as his gaze fell on the black lace bra I was wearing and the supple breasts contained within. I grabbed his hand and led him around to the couch, pulling him on top of me as I lay down. His hands pushed up my skirt as his lips kissed the tops of my breasts. I reached down and unzipped his pants, shoving them down around his ankles. I felt him tug at my thong, pushing it down my legs, and the next thing I knew, he was inside me.

I let out a soft moan as he slowly but deliberately thrusted into me. I grabbed his head in my hands and kissed him. He held on to my hips as he settled into a nice, slow rhythm. He looked right into my eyes and I felt as if he was looking into my soul.

"I love you," he whispered, his breath ragged.

I smiled. "I love you, too."

When we both were satisfied, he fell down beside me as I rolled onto my side, allowing him more room. We lay there listening to Mike Ness belt out the blues, both still fully dressed, albeit with our clothes crooked on our bodies. I put my head on his chest and watched him rub his right leg, hard.

"That was amazing, Greg," I said, into his chest.

He stroked my back, "Yes, I am amazing."

I chuckled softly, "Does your leg hurt?"

He stopped rubbing his leg. "It always hurts."

I sat up, buttoning my shirt. "I know that it always hurts. I was asking if it is hurting more than usual, you know that."

Greg paused, not saying anything as he pulled his pants back on. He grabbed a bottle of Vicodin from his jacket pocket and shook one out. I watched as he tossed it into his mouth and played with the small pill with his tongue. Finally, he swallowed the pill and looked at me. "This past week has been a bad week."

I placed my hand on his right leg, feeling the gigantic scar where his thigh muscle used to be. "Well, did the sex help at all?"

I saw a tiny smile creep onto his face. "A little, but I think next time you should be on top."

I laughed. "Maybe if you play your cards right, we can try that tonight." Suddenly, a timer from the kitchen went off. "Oh, the steaks are ready!" I leapt off the couch and headed for the kitchen. "Our guests will be here in about twenty minutes and I have to finish dinner. Come in here and keep me company," I called from the kitchen.

I heard a loud groan coming from the living room. "I knew you tricked me! Who is coming over?" he asked as he limped into the kitchen. He came up behind me and kissed the base of my neck. Then he moved to the cupboards, pulling out the bottle of Maker's Mark bourbon I had just bought at the store and two glasses.

"Chase and Cameron. You know you should really spend more time getting to know your team." He stared at me with a mixture of shock and anger. "I am, of course, just kidding, so you can unclench now," I smiled at him. I watched him visibly relax before I continued. "James and Meredith are coming over." I knew he would be upset. He hated the fact that he had to socialize with Meredith outside of work mainly because he was her boss and he didn't like her knowing so much about his personal life. But she had become my best friend and she had married his best friend, so he was just going to have to deal with it.

He poured himself a glass of bourbon and then a second one for me, saying, "You are a horrible, horrible person."

"Yeah, I am so terrible, making you have dinner with your friend. They should lock me up," I said sarcastically, putting the steaks on a serving platter.

"You invite Wilson, fine, but Dr. Barbie? Come on," he said, passing me my glass.

"Greg, he just married –"

"Contrary to my advice," he interjected, taking a drink from his glass.

"Her so we need to be supportive, just like he was when we got married," I ignored him.

He made a face at me, but before he could respond with a witty comeback, the doorbell rang. I smoothed my skirt with my hands and quickly ran my fingers through my hair. "How do I look?"

"Doable," he smiled at me.

"Good." I downed the bourbon he had poured me in one gulp and then asked, "Can you set the table with those plates?" I pointed to a set of beautiful crystal plates his parents had given us when we got married. I walked to the front door and opened it.

"James, Meredith, I am so glad you could come." I stood to the side of the door, gesturing into our apartment. "Come in, please."

Meredith handed me a bottle of Pinot Noir. "Thanks for having us. We haven't had an opportunity to have dinner together in such a long time."

I patted Meredith on the arm, "Well, it's okay. You know you only get a free pass on social obligations for your first year of marriage. It's some kind of newlywed clause."

Meredith laughed at me. "Well even so, I can't believe I haven't hung out with my best friend in weeks."

"I know. What's up with that?" I asked, imitating a Valley Girl. Meredith and I laughed at each other, as James took her coat.

I heard the familiar rattle of a prescription bottle behind me so I turned around to see Greg standing in the kitchen doorway, swallowing a pill. "Oh, for God's sake, Greg, stop being so melodramatic and come over here to say hello," I said exasperatedly, then quietly to James, "He can be such a child."

James smiled at me as Greg moved from his spot. He limped over to the doorway. "Wilson, Future Third Ex Mrs. Wilson," he greeted them.

I rolled my eyes at him so he could see. "Greg."

"It's okay, Isabella," Meredith said to me and then turned to Greg. "I didn't expect any different behavior outside the hospital than I get inside the hospital." Meredith and Greg stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, I broke the silence. "Why don't we sit down? Greg, can you go open this?" I handed him the bottle.

He lumbered off into the kitchen, in search of a corkscrew. "So how is married life treating you two?" I asked as we sat down at the table.

Greg quietly sat down and began pouring the wine. "Oh, none for me House, thanks," Meredith said.

Greg stared at her, then at James, then back. "Why?"

She hesitated for a second and then, "I'm driving."

"Married life is great. This past month has been amazing," James answered my question, ignoring Greg.

"One glass of wine won't make you drunk enough…" he let his voice trail off and fell deep in thought.

I sensed Greg was about to showcase his intelligence and powers of observation in a way most people found extremely annoying. He was on the verge of blurting out some kind of personal information he had just deduced about Meredith. I was curious as to what was going on in his head, but I knew that whatever it was James and Meredith probably didn't want it broadcast.

"Isabella, Cuddy told me that you might be joining the Board," James said, in a vain attempt to move the conversation along.

I glanced over at Greg, who was just staring at Meredith. I could sense Meredith was getting uncomfortable under Greg's stare, but I knew there was nothing I could do to stop him. "Um, I am thinking about it. The hospital definitely needs an attorney on the Board."

"Oh my God," Greg blurted out.

"House," James had a warning tone in his voice.

"Oh. My. God. You're pregnant," Greg stated matter of factly, staring right at Meredith. "Is this why you got married last month?"

"House!" James protested.

"No, it is not. We found out only last week, and not that it is any of your business, but we are very happy about it," Meredith said, not breaking eye contact with him.

Greg shifted his gaze to James. "Did you want this?"

"Yes," James answered him.

"Why?" Greg countered.

"What do you mean, why? That is a ridiculous question, House."

"No it's not. You only think it's ridiculous because you can't think of an answer."

"Well, congratulations, Meredith, James. This is wonderful. Have you told anyone else?" I asked.

"No, we thought it would be best to allow House to figure it out all by himself first, before we told anyone." James said sarcastically. Meredith laughed and I tried to hold it back. Greg half smiled, half scowled at him.

"So is there anything else you want to try to figure out or can we get back to having normal dinner conversation?" I asked Greg, giving him my sweetest smile.

"Oh I'm sorry, did I interrupt your fascinating debate on the pros and cons of joining the hospital board?" Greg shot back, still a little pissy. I just rolled my eyes at him. When he got in these moods, I found it best to just leave him be.

"Well I think you should do it. Jimmy just loves being on the board," Meredith chimed in.

"Yeah maybe," I muttered.

The rest of the meal was uneventful. While we ate, Greg mostly kept quiet, no doubt deep in thought about what a baby meant for his relationship with James. Meredith, James and I had pleasant conversation, but there was no more talk about the pregnancy or babies. Meredith and I made plans to get together for dinner without our husbands sometime later that week and finally, after a few hours, they left. As soon as they were out the door, I lay down on the couch, kicking my shoes off. Greg sat down at the edge of the couch and pulled my feet into his lap. He rested one hand on my bare feet and the other on his own leg.

"Are you really going to join the Board?" Greg asked.

I thought for a minute and then said, "Yeah."

"Huh," he answered. That brief sentiment reminded me of how this relationship is so different than any other relationship I have ever been in. With my previous boyfriend, this kind of career decision would have been made over hours and hours of discussion. With Greg, it's different. We make most decisions by ourselves and then let each other in on it only after the decision has been made. We function so independently of each other, but because we both do it, it seems to work for us.

We fell into silence. Greg sat there, lightly rubbing my feet, drinking a glass of bourbon and I just laid there quietly, staring at the ceiling. I was weighing the pros and cons of admonishing Greg for his behavior. On the one hand, this is who Greg was. He was rude and didn't care for the social niceties most people endure and I loved him for that. I would have been shocked if he hadn't behaved in this manner. But on the other hand, I felt I needed to talk to him. James was his best friend, after me of course, and I didn't want him to alienate the one other person in his life that genuinely likes and cares for him. My private debate was interrupted by Greg's voice.

"Do you want kids?" he asked after the long silence.

"Do you?" I asked back, placing my arm underneath my head so I could see him better.

"I asked you first," he said staring into his glass at the amber liquid.

"I have never really thought about it seriously," I answered honestly. "I don't know."

Greg didn't say anything, but absent-mindedly stroked my bare leg. I couldn't read him. I never in a million years thought I would have the baby talk with Greg. He definitely did not seem like the baby type and I was totally fine with that. I did not necessarily want kids, but I guess if I found myself pregnant I would not be completely upset. I don't think I want to start actively trying to have a baby, though.

"Want to go to bed?" Greg asked me.

Typical Greg, he moves on before a topic is settled. I'm sure I can expect him to bring this up again in a few weeks as if no time at all had passed. I smiled, mostly to myself, and then answered. "Yes, but if you want to have sex with me, you have to wear a condom. All this baby talk is freaking me out a little."

"Fair enough," he smiled. "I'll go grab one from the bathroom."


	4. Highway to Hell

**AN: Each chapter is named after a song that has been used on House that has lyrics that describe the chapter, if that makes any sense. This is a completely AU story and the timing of events are a little OOC. I don't own House or any of the other characters from the show, although I wish I did. I do, however, own the Gallaghers and Meredith Sawyer. Okay…so now that we have established the relationship with the first two chapters, on to the nitty gritty of their life together! Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I hope you are all enjoying it!**

**Chapter Four: Highway to Hell**

**The Next Morning**

The room was silent save for the low, steady breathing coming from the man lying next to me. As I rolled over to look at him, I saw it was already 9:15 in the morning. His usually rumpled, weary face looked so peaceful as he slept. I decided to get up and shower before he woke up. I slowly and quietly made my way to the bathroom down the hall from our room. I stepped into the shower and allowed the hot water to pour over my body. I stood there thinking about James and Meredith. I was so happy for them. Meredith constantly talked about how she wanted a child and the minute James had proposed to her I knew it was only a matter of time before she got pregnant. In my 31 years on Earth I had never thought I wanted a baby. I am too self involved. I am too ambitious to make time for a baby, not to mention the fact that I am married to a drug addicted misanthrope who avoided emotional relationships at all costs, save for his one exception, me. We were actually quite perfect for each other in those respects, but I think that bringing another person into the mix would bring our relationship down. The question of a baby that Greg brought up last night could not possibly have been serious. I am sure he only brought it up, because it was one of those rare occasions when he was actually trying to play the part of the supportive, communicative husband, saying the things that a wife wants to hear. I exited the shower and ran a comb through my hair. While toweling off my long, curly hair, I looked down at my legs, smiling to myself when I noticed a new bruise on my thigh. 'Must be from having sex on the couch,' I thought to myself.

I took the towel off my head and wrapped it around myself. "Shit, Greg!" I caught a glimpse of him in the mirror, standing behind me. "How long have you been standing there?"

He looked me up and down with such an intense stare I could almost feel his eyes on me. "Since you got out of the shower. I have just been enjoying the view," he chuckled. He reached past me, ever so slightly grazing my bare stomach, and grabbed the bottle of pills from the vanity and swallowed one. "The real question is, why are you, the person on vacation, up and showered before me, the person who actually has to go to work?"

I grabbed the bottle of sunscreen and began my daily ritual of covering my alabaster skin with the protective lotion. "Because you sleep in regardless of whether or not you have to work."

He shrugged his shoulders, "I'm a night owl, what can I say." He watched as I brushed my teeth and said, "What are you doing today?"

"I have some errands to run. You know the fridge does not actually fill itself."

He took a seat on the edge of the bathtub and scratched at his stubbled chin. "So, what else are you doing today?" His hand moved from his chin to his right leg and he started rubbing it through his flannel pajama pants.

"I was thinking about going into Manhattan. I need a couple of new suits."

"Didn't you just buy some new clothes last week?" he asked, with a look of bewilderment on his face.

"No, I bought shoes last week. There is a difference." I turned to face him, hands on my hips.

"Ah, I see."

I walked closer to him, wearing just my towel and placed my hands on his shoulders. "I think you are so sexy in your white tee shirt. It accentuates your manly muscles," I teased, my wet hair falling in my face as I leaned down to kiss him.

He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me down to his lap. I sat down on his good leg, careful not to put too much pressure on his damaged thigh. "Maybe I won't go to work today." He kissed my neck, pushing my hair out of his way.

"Don't you have a patient?" I asked, throwing my head back, allowing him access to kiss my neck and chest.

"Nope. Transferred. Oncology." His breath was ragged and his sentence staccato as he moved down to my breasts.

"If you stay I will make you go to the store with me," I smiled at him as I pulled his face towards mine and gave him a deep kiss.

He rubbed his leg. "Hmm, which is worse? Clinic duty or clothes shopping?" I stood up and reached for my styling cream. As I ran the cream through my hair, I looked over at him, catching him staring at my ass. "If I go to the store with you, will you walk around the house completely naked for the rest of the day?"

I giggled at him. "Maybe."

He stood up from where he was sitting. "Well, I guess I have no choice but to go with you." He leaned down towards me and gave me a quick kiss. Then he turned around to start the shower.

I walked out of the bathroom towards our bedroom. I looked around in the closet, trying to find what I wanted to wear that day. I glanced out the window to see that it had started to lightly snow. I found my Hudson skinny jeans and slipped them on. My Hudsons were the only jeans I could find that fit my tiny frame perfectly. At 5 feet tall and only about 100 pounds, it was hard to find clothing that actually fit. "Now, what to wear on top?" I asked myself, aloud, as I stood in our bedroom in my jeans and bra. I looked down the hall as I heard the uneven gait of Greg making his way back to the bedroom without his cane. As he walked he used the walls of the hallway to brace himself.

"I think you should just wear that," he said as he limped over to the dresser.

"Ha ha," I answered him as I pulled a white thermal over my head. Then I grabbed the short-sleeved black tee shirt that had the words London's Calling emblazoned on the front and threw that over my thermal. I sat down on the edge of the bed to put on my brown Converse tennis shoes. "Greg, you have to be nicer to Meredith, at least in social situations. Especially now that she is having your best friend's baby." I thought that if I caught him off guard with the subject, he might not make too big of a deal about it.

He turned to face me as he buttoned his jeans. "Why?" he asked simply.

"Because you do not want to alienate James. The fact that they are having a baby together is going to keep her in his life forever, so you don't want to make it too easy for him to choose her over you," I explained.

"Oh, he could never choose her over me. He's my one true love," he replied mockingly.

"Joke all you want, Greg, but if you keep being an ass towards Meredith, things will not be pleasant between you and James," I shouted to him as I walked back to the bathroom to finish styling my hair and applying my makeup.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I heard him mumble from the living room. As I was putting on the finishing touches to my makeup, I listened quietly to him making a phone call.

"Can't make it in today. My leg hurts. Looks like you are going to have to do my clinic hours for me." There was a short pause. "Don't care, not coming in. Bye."

"God, I can't imagine why no one likes you," I teased as I wrapped my Burberry cashmere scarf around my neck. "Are you ready to go?" I asked, grabbing my wool trench coat.

"Oh, you were serious? Please don't make me go to the store."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Greg, we had a deal. You come to the store with me and I maybe walk around the apartment naked."

He smiled slightly as he grabbed me around the waist. "I love when you wear tennis shoes. It makes you so tiny." He was right. Without my heels, I was almost a foot and a half shorter than him.

"You just like to tower over me," I joked back. I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a tiny peck on the lips. Then I grabbed his long coat from the closet and handed it to him. "If you come with me, I will let you drive."

With that last statement, I knew I had him. He loved driving my Porsche Carrera S4 convertible around town almost as much as he loved riding his motorcycle. When we took my car, I usually drove, purely because manually shifting became too painful for Greg if he did it for extended periods of time. But that did not stop him from wanting to drive the car every chance he got.

He fished his keys out from the bowl that sat on the table in our entryway. "Excellent," he grinned to himself.

"Not your bike. It's snowing, Greg. I don't want to die today," I said, handing him the car keys.

"Fine, be that way. I wanted to drive the Porsche anyway."

***********************************************************************************************************************************

"Oh don't worry, I got the heavy stuff. Can you at least carry in the bag with the bread and chips?" I asked, struggling with two heavy grocery bags and a Saks Fifth Avenue garment bag as I made my way up the steps to our front door.

"It's rude to ask cripples to do things they can't do," Greg answered me sarcastically, even though I heard the crinkle of a shopping bag as he picked it up from the trunk of the car.

I fished around in my pocket, trying to find our house keys. "Thanks, sweetie." I flashed him my cheesiest smile.

Greg made a face at me. I knew he hated those pet names, but every once in a while I felt like pushing his buttons. I unlocked our front door, hung the garment bag up in the hall closet and then went straight to the kitchen to unload the grocery bags. Greg followed me and placed his small bag of odds and ends on the kitchen counter. As I put our groceries away in the pantry and fridge, Greg walked over to the answering machine. He quickly popped a pill, then pressed play on the machine.

"Hey, Bella. It's Patrick. I just wanted to let you know that I spoke to Becca last week and she really wants to come visit for Christmas. She said she spoke to you about it like a month ago, but there was no definite plan. So I'm thinking we need to come up with a joint excuse as to why we can't see her. You know, get our stories straight. Give me a call when you get a chance. Talk to you soon." Ever since I had moved back to the east coast, Patrick and I had gotten extremely close again, almost as close as when we were growing up, before our parents died. We talked on the phone almost daily and since he and his wife lived in Baltimore, we tried to see each other at least once a month. The same could not be said about my sister.

"Doesn't your sister live in London?" Greg asked as he erased the message.

"Yeah. There is no way she is coming to the states for Christmas. She hasn't been here in six years," I said.

The answering machine beeped again, signaling the existence of another message. "Oh my God! Isabella! So what's up? Callum, Beth, the baby and I are in Princeton and are so excited to spend Christmas with you! We should be at your place by three. Can't wait to see you! Oh, yeah, hi Greg!" the squeaky, feminine voice on the machine spoke a million miles a minute. The minute I heard the voice, I froze and I could feel Greg's eyes boring a hole into my back.

I slowly turned to face Greg. "What? Did she say she is coming here?" I managed to spurt out.

"What kind of name is Callum?" Greg answered me.

"How could she not tell me? Oh my God, Greg, it is already 2:30! They are going to be here in a half hour. I need to call my brother. We need to clean. I need to buy baby food. You need to find your stashes of pills and put them in our bedroom. We need to get rid of the alcohol. We need to, I need to..." Greg came up and gently grabbed my arms, cutting me off.

"Okay, the first thing you need to do is calm down. You are talking way too fast." He leaned up against the island in our kitchen, pulling me with him.

"You're right. I'm sorry. Ugg, my sister is ridiculous. How long has she known me and she still doesn't get the fact that I need notice before she decides to just come and visit?" I leaned into Greg and placed my head on his chest.

"Well, Bella, she is crazy. Um, quick question. Why do I have to move my pills and get rid of the alcohol?" he asked, nonchalantly stroking my hair.

"Because…" before I could finish my sentence, there was a knock at the front door followed by a loud-pitched shriek. "Oh my God. They are early. Okay, Greg, now please, please, be nice to my sister's husband."

The knocking grew more persistent and the shrieking became more and more frantic. "My God, Bella, what the hell is going on out there?" Greg asked, annoyance evident in his voice.

"It must be the baby." I started to make my way to the front door. I got to the door and braced myself for the coming tornado that was my sister. "Alright Greg, brace yourself."

Greg leaned up against the back of the couch and fished his pill bottle out of his jean pocket. He leaned his cane up against the couch as he took two pills. I opened the door and found my older sister, her befuddled husband, a pissy teen and a screaming baby greeting me.

It wasn't that my sister and I did not get along. It was just that our personalities never seemed to mesh and I had always gotten along better with my twin brother, Patrick. Rebecca was eight years older than me, but she acted like she was eight years younger than me. She was the hyperactive, super duper positive, nature freak who had moved to her husband's hometown of Manchester, England with her four-year-old daughter the minute my brother and I had graduated high school. She never earned a college degree and she was happy being a stay at home mother. I was probably the complete opposite. Since I had moved to Princeton, we talked on the phone a little more often, usually once a month, but the conversations consisted of mostly her telling me about her life, and she never seemed interested in what was going on with me. I hadn't seen her in almost 6 years, since my brother had gotten married.

My sister was the complete opposite physically as well. I was 100 pounds and barely 5 feet. She was closer to 5'9" and still had not lost her pregnancy weight. I was a fair skinned red head. She was a tanned blonde. I spent my free time drinking and having sex. She was much more conservative and never drank anything stronger than fruit juice. Driving the point home that we were opposite was the staggering differences in our husbands as well. Greg was a 6'3" grey haired, unshaven, crippled, drug addicted doctor who was more than happy to mutter snarky comments in the background. Callum was a 5'8", blonde, stockbroker, health nut that just oozed niceness from his pores. The four of us were definitely an interesting pairing. 'This visit could not be over soon enough.' I thought to myself.

"Bella! Oh my God, it has been too long! You need to eat more," my sister screamed at me as she threw her arms around me.

"It's good to see you, too, Becca." I said, trying to extricate myself from her overly tight hug and ignoring her comment. "Hi, Beth," I said to the brooding teen in the Goth makeup and clothing hiding behind Rebecca.

"Hey, Aunt Bella," she answered, in the melodic British accent picked up at the finest London public schools. Beth was 17 years old and already had numerous tattoos and piercings all over her body. She was a brilliant student and despite her moody tendencies, was extremely polite. My sister didn't understand why Beth had to be so quiet and dark all the time, but I did. Beth was exactly like me when I was her age. We talked on the phone every once in while, when she wasn't getting along with her mother. I was glad to be that outlet for her. I knew how crazy her mother could get.

"Oh! Have you seen Bridget? Isn't she gorgeous?" Rebecca grabbed her 11-month-old daughter from her husband and practically shoved the child in my face.

"She is just gorgeous Becca, and big." I quickly shot Greg a look and noticed him throwing another pill in his mouth. I rolled my eyes at him, hoping he saw.

"And here is my love, my soul mate, Callum!" Rebecca, holding Bridget in one arm, pulled Callum, her husband of eighteen years, from the doorway.

"I know, Rebecca, I was at the wedding. Hi Callum." I said to him.

"Good afternoon, love!" Callum said in his thick Manchester accent and leaned in to give me a kiss on the check.

"So, I love your apartment and this neighborhood is unbelievable!" Rebecca ventured further into the apartment, leaving the rest of us standing in the doorway, watching her. She hadn't taken a breath since she got there and I had decided to just wait her out.

"Is she high? Does she need a sedative?" Greg finally spoke.

With the sound of Greg's voice, Rebecca spun around and looked right at him. I quickly stood between Greg and Rebecca. Grabbing his arm, I said, "Rebecca, this is Greg. Greg, this is my sister, Rebecca."

"Oh my God!" she squealed as she ran up and threw her arms around his neck, passing the baby off to her husband in the process. "It is fabulous to finally meet my sister's soul mate. I have heard so much about you, Gregy!"

I smiled in spite of myself at hearing my sister call him Gregy.

"It's Greg, and please get off me," Greg responded.

I squeezed his arm slightly, as my sister backed off. "Be nice," I whispered in his ear.

"Gregy, this is my husband, Callum. Callum, this is Greg."

"Wonderful to meet you, mate." Callum stuck out his hand. Greg looked suspiciously at the outstretched hand, and then finally shook it.

"Top o' the morning to you, old chap!" Greg mocked him, in an obviously over the top British accent.

I stifled a giggle, but Rebecca and Callum did not seem to notice the joke. All Callum could do was look at Greg stunned and say, "Bella, you didn't tell me your bloke was a fellow countryman!"

This time I could not hold in the laugh. "Oh, Gregy is just messing with you Callum. Aren't you Gregy?" I laughed, emphasizing the name Gregy extra hard.

"Yeah, just teasing, Callum. Wonderful to meet you, bro." Greg had a huge fake smile on his face as he spoke to Callum, now in an over the top good ole country boy accent.

I caught Beth's eyes and waved her over. "Beth, this is my husband, Greg. Greg, my niece Beth."

Beth and Greg sized each other up. "I'm not calling you Uncle Greg," Beth said, deadpanned.

The faintest hint of a smile played on Greg's lips. "Good. I won't call you niece Beth." Beth smirked at him.

"And this, this is our daughter, Bridget," Rebecca said to Greg, tickling her daughter in her husband's arms. Greg looked at the baby, and then looked at me with a look of pure annoyance.

Sensing trouble, I decided to take action before Greg reached his breaking point. "Okay, well why don't we all take a seat in the living room. Can I get anyone anything to, OH MY GOD!" I was cut off mid thought as I was closing the front door. I noticed the piles of luggage sitting on the steps. "What is all this?" I exclaimed, a little too harshly.

The three adults in the room all turned to look at the front door and me. All the color drained from Greg's face as he saw the large amount of luggage. "Oh, that is just our luggage. Callum, can you bring it in, sweetie pie?" Rebecca said, off handedly. Callum handed her the baby and walked to the luggage.

"I know it is luggage, but why is it here, at my house?" I asked.

"Silly, I told you in the message that we were spending Christmas with you."

Greg took yet another pill out of his bottle and swallowed it. "You do realize that Christmas is not for another two weeks, right?" Greg asked.

I squeezed Greg a little harder than I should have on the shoulder. Rebecca giggled at him. "Oh, Gregy, you are hilarious! I can see why Bella loves you."

As Callum dragged the ten bags and suitcases into the living room, Greg suddenly stood up, leaning extra heavily on his cane. He quietly muttered to me, "I need a drink." As Greg lumbered into the kitchen, I turned to my sister, who had started rocking her fussy daughter. "Can I get you guys anything to drink?"

"No, we are fine. Thanks, Bells!" she replied cheerily.

"Okay, well, excuse me for a sec. I'm going to grab something from the kitchen." I followed Greg into the kitchen.

"Well, your sister is just a huge bundle of joy," he mumbled to me.

"Yeah, she's exhausting. The minute she moved out of the house for London was the first time I was able to relax since my vacation in the womb."

Greg laughed a little. "Why is that?"

"I don't know. She has always been like that. I swear we do not share the same blood. Patrick and I have always been different from her, even as kids. She has acted like an adolescent girl her entire life."

"Bella, they can not stay here," Greg said softly, pouring a glass of scotch.

"Well, I know that, but it's not like they just live down the street and can just go home. They live across the fucking ocean."

Greg braced himself between the counter and the island, taking the weight of his injured leg. I heard a barely perceptible wince escape his lips. The strain of walking around the shopping center for four hours and the stress of our unexpected visitors, combined with the fact that his leg was already bothering him that week, seemed to be taking its toll. I knew his temper would be short and if I didn't handle this properly, I had a feeling we were in for a classic Greg and Isabella fight. We are both very stubborn, very intelligent people who always think they are right. This particular quality is not conducive to having simple arguments. Each argument becomes an epic battle that usually results in one of us storming out. I didn't mind this because we did not argue that often. Nine times out of ten we are on the same page. But that tenth time, wow, watch out for some fireworks.

I chose my words carefully before I spoke. "I don't think we have much of a choice." I grabbed his glass and took a large sip of his scotch before he even had a chance to drink.

"We don't have much choice?" Greg's voice started to rise. "Isabella, we only have one bedroom and the cripple actually needs to sleep in his own bed. Where are four extra people going to sleep? In the hallway?" He grabbed the glass from my hand and downed the entire glass. He then proceeded to pour himself another one.

"First of all, Greg, you need to lower your voice. Do not yell at me while my family can hear you. Second of all, you cannot blame this on me. I didn't even know they were coming." Again, I grabbed the glass and took a drink before he could.

"Oh, come on, she obviously called your brother. How could you not know they were coming?" Greg rubbed his forehead.

"She didn't tell me, Greg. I can't know things that people don't tell me," I snapped at him.

He looked around the kitchen until his eyes fell on the prescription bottle sitting next to the sink. He grabbed it and poured two pills into his mouth.

"What are you doing?" I asked, incredulous. "You have taken almost ten in the last twenty minutes."

"That doesn't even compare with how many I am going to take," he retorted.

"Greg, are you high?" I was getting mad now. I had never really cared about his drug use. I knew that he took the pills as a necessity and I did not want to monitor his pill intake. In fact, it usually didn't even bother me when he went a little overboard and got stoned. But this was different. He was popping pills to escape me.

He stared right at me, his blue eyes dilating by the second. He slowly lifted the glass of scotch to his lips, never taking his eyes off me, and took a long drink, finishing off the liquid. "I'm too stoned to tell," he finally answered, with a glint in his eye and an evil looking smirk on his face.

"Okay. You need to leave. I don't care where you go, but you need to let me take care of my family alone. I can't deal with a crazy sister and a stoned husband at the same time." I put my head in my hands in defeat.

He grabbed the pill bottle and shoved it in his jeans pocket. "Fine."

"Good." I walked calmly out of the kitchen. I heard the thud of his cane as he followed me back into the living room. Rebecca was putting Bridget down on the couch, wrapping her with blankets, trying to create a makeshift bed. "Greg has to leave. There is an emergency at the hospital," I announced.

Greg limped to the closet and grabbed his overcoat. As I walked over to the front door, I saw him pick up his motorcycle keys. I quickly grabbed them from his hand. "Oh, no. I might be mad at you, but that doesn't mean I want to have to ID your body in the morgue. Call a cab, you idiot," I whispered to him. He rolled his eyes at me, but I didn't care. He might think he can drive stoned, but I didn't want to take that chance.

"Bye, Gregy!" my sister called after him.

"Brilliant to meet you, mate," Callum said.

The minute Greg shut the door behind him I turned to my sister and brother in law, who were sitting on the couch.

"Rebecca, why didn't you call?" I asked, sitting down in my leather chair. Beth kept looking between her mother and me, amused at the events.

"When we talked last month, we said how nice it would be to see each other for Christmas and then when I talked to Patrick, he agreed."

"I know, but you didn't say you were going to come here two weeks early and want to stay with me," I told her, exasperated.

My sister gave me a quizzical look. "Are you mad, lil sis?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Callum staring intently at Rebecca and I arguing, while Beth smirked to herself. "Mad? No. I would say shocked would be more appropriate. Becca, how could you just show up with your entire family and six months worth of luggage without calling?" I tried to control the growing fury I felt rising within me. I could not believe the level of self-involvement of my sister.

"You never used to care if I showed up unannounced. Is this because of Greg?" I could tell my sister was starting to get annoyed with me.

I groaned at her in frustration. "Of course it is, Rebecca! I share my life and home with another person now. When you disrupt my life, you disrupt his as well." I was almost shouting at this point. Callum sat in stunned silence next to Bridget. Bridget continued sleeping as if nothing was going on around her.

My sister put on her best hurt puppy face. "I just thought it would be nice to visit my only sister. You hadn't met my daughter yet and I hadn't met your husband. I thought spending Christmas with you and Patrick would be nice. You know we are all the family we have left for each other since Mom and Dad died, and I thought we should try to hold on to that."

I looked down at my hands in my lap, fixating on my wedding band. 'No, I just asked the only family I have left to leave our home,' I thought to myself. 'How could she bring up our parents when the only thing she ever wanted to do was get as far away from them as possible?' I felt myself getting angrier and angrier with her. But through all that anger and resentment, there was a little thought deep down that told me she was right. She has always been a pain in my ass, but she was my sister and there was no way I could tell her to leave without causing irreparable damage to our relationship. I was not sure I wanted to close that door in my life quite yet.

I looked up at Rebecca, fidgeting with my wedding band. "I'm sorry, Becca. You are right. This is going to be nice." I watched Callum as he visibly relaxed. Beth seemed oddly disappointed that there wasn't going to be any more arguing.

Rebecca jumped up from the couch and engulfed me with a hug. "Fantastic! And don't worry about anything! We don't really make a lot of noise and we definitely don't take up a lot of space."

I looked around at all the luggage cluttering up my living room. "Somehow I don't believe that. Look, Becca, the thing is, we don't have a spare room. This is a one bedroom townhouse and this living room and that small dining area is just about all the living space we have."

"That is absolutely no problem, silly Bells! Bridget takes up hardly any room and we can put her crib over by the dinner table. Beth can sleep on the couch and as for Callum and I, we have a blow up mattress we can set up right here in the living room! See problem solved!" she squealed.

"You wouldn't be more comfortable in a hotel? Greg and I would be more than happy to set you up at the Hyatt Regency. It's not very far from here," I suggested, hoping she would take me up on the offer.

"Oh don't be silly. How can we spend quality family time together if we are at a hotel?" Rebecca asked, as if it was the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard.

"Well as long as you are sure," I said, silently disappointed. Then quieter, I muttered to myself, "Greg is going to just love this."

"If you don't mind, Callum and I will just start unpacking a few necessitates, like Bridget's stuff," Rebecca told me as she started looking through the five different bags labeled Bridget Oliver.

Callum stood up and grabbed the bags from Rebecca. "No, love, I can do this. Beth will help me too. You should chat with your sister." He kissed her on the check.

Rebecca had a look of pure love in her eyes as she turned to me. "Isn't he just the best?" She tousled his hair as she walked over to me.

"Well, I was going to make something for lunch. Did you want to help, Becca?" I made an effort, since Callum seemed to think we needed sisterly alone time.

"Definitely. Callum, sweetie, did you want a sandwich?" I was getting nauseous with all the lovey dovey talk.

"I would love one, my darlin'." Callum pulled a little foldaway crib out from one of the bags.

"Beth, honey, would you like one too?" Becky asked her oldest.

"Sure," Beth answered her mother as she shifted through Bridget's bag, looking for some blankets.

I walked into the kitchen and grabbed the empty glass Greg had left on the counter. I poured myself a shot of scotch before my sister came into the kitchen. My sister was a complete teetoler. Not only did she not drink, but she had always looked down at me for drinking. I had a feeling she would have some wonderful things to say about Greg's drug use and our combined drinking habits.

"So, sissy poo, how have you been doing?" Rebecca asked the moment she stepped foot in the kitchen.

I grabbed the jar of peanut butter from the pantry and placed it on the island. "I am doing great. What did you want in your sandwich?"

"Do you have any turkey?"

"No, but there might be some corned beef in the fridge." Rebecca grabbed the container of corned beef from the fridge. "How are you doing, Becca?" I asked, taking a swig from the glass, hoping she wouldn't notice.

"Just fabulous!" she answered enthusiastically.

"Have you spoken to Patrick since you got in?"

"No not yet. But when I talked to him last week, he said he was very excited to spend Christmas with us."

"Yeah I bet he did," I muttered, annoyed that my sister chose to stay with me in my tiny townhouse when Patrick lived in a house and actually had room for guests.

"Bella, can I ask you a question?" I hesitated and then nodded at her. "Are you happy with Greg?"

I threw my knife in the sink, after spreading my peanut butter. "Geez, Becca, you just cut right to the point, don't you?"

"Well I am your older sister, Bella, I just want to make sure you are happy," she said, eyeing my glass suspiciously.

"Yes, I am happy. Greg and I are intelligent, passionate people and we work well together. I have never been happier." I took a triumphant drink from my glass.

She looked at me, unbelievingly, "Good. I better go give these sandwiches to Callum and Beth." Rebecca walked out of the kitchen and I just knew she was judging me the entire time. I wanted to scream at her, 'See this is why we never talk! This is why you weren't invited to my wedding!' But I didn't. It was going to be a long two weeks as it was. I didn't have to add unnecessary animosity into the mix.


	5. Happiness

**AN: Each chapter is named after a song that has been used on House that has lyrics that describe the chapter, if that makes any sense. This is a completely AU story and the timing of events are a little OOC. I don't own House or any of the other characters from the show, although I wish I did. In this chapter, I even borrow a little dialogue from Season 3's episode **_**Words and Deeds**_**, and again, I do not own that. I do, however, own the Gallaghers and Meredith Sawyer. Okay…so now that we have established the relationship with the first two chapters, on to the nitty gritty of their life together! Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I hope you are all enjoying it!**

**Chapter Five: Happiness**

**Later That Night**

I sat on my bed, absently leafing through that week's issue of _US Weekly_. I stared at the page as I thought about everything that had happened that day. I had called my brother and whined to him that Rebecca had insisted on staying with me and he promised to come down for the weekend, if I promised to come to him for Christmas. My sister, her family, and I had ordered a pizza and I was able to get to know Beth and Bridget better. It was a nice bonding evening, but I had no idea how I was going to live with these people for two weeks. I was finally able to excuse myself to bed at one in the morning. 'God, my sister sure can talk,' I thought. Greg was still not home, which in and of itself was not cause for alarm. When we argued, he usually came home as late as possible, trying to avoid catching me awake. But tonight, after the way he was downing pills, I was getting a little worried. I flipped the page to glance at the _Stars Are Just Like Us_ section and debated whether or not to call his cell. 'Well, maybe I don't want to be awake when he gets here. The minute he sees our new roommates camped out in the living room, he'll want to kill me,' I mused to myself.

I was just about to give up and turn out the light on the nightstand when I heard the loud thump of his cane, right outside the bedroom door. I heard him tap it on the ground a few times and I guessed he was making his decision about coming in. Finally, he opened the door and our eyes met across the room. He took one more step into the room and closed the door behind him. Slowly, he took off his overcoat, tossing it on the chair that sat in the corner of the room. He said nothing, but never took his eyes off of me. I returned his gaze and resolved to let him speak first. He twirled his cane between his fingers, and then hung it by its handle above his head on the doorframe. I watched as his hand drifted down to his right thigh and grabbed hold, as if holding on to it would stop the pain. He stood there, quietly gripping his leg.

At that moment, I saw an intense sadness in his eyes that I couldn't quite remember seeing before. For the two years I have known him, there have been struggles with his leg, but none that were too severe that they could not be solved by upping his dose of Vicodin. The look I saw now was a mix of desperation and helplessness. I was torn. I wanted to run across the room and hold him in my arms, comfort him, but I knew that Greg House did not look kindly on charity nor on pity. His leg and his disability were topics we never discussed, save my occasional inquiry on his general pain level. If he had a problem, he usually went to James about it and that was only because James could prescribe him more narcotics.

He finally broke his gaze and looked down at the ground. "I'm sorry," he muttered to the floorboards, still holding on to his leg.

I stared at him in stunned silence. 'He tells me that my family cannot stay here, then he comes home to find them sleeping in our living room, and he apologizes to me?' I thought. I was prepared to go another few rounds with him, arguing over the situation. An apology right off the bat was completely unexpected.

He hobbled with great difficulty to the edge of the bed and leaned on the footboard, lifting his right leg off the ground. His face was flushed and his eyes were bloodshot, but I couldn't tell if it was a symptom of being stoned or being in pain. I slowly got up from the bed and walked over to him, noticing that his knuckles were white from holding onto the wood so tightly. He avoided my gaze as I touched his arm. I felt his muscles strain under my touch as he braced himself.

"We can apologize in the morning. Come here." I wrapped my hand around his and led him to our bed, allowing him to use me as his crutch. He sat down at the edge of the bed, but I could see in his eyes that he had no relief from the pain in his leg. "Greg, lay down. I'm going to get you a glass of water."

He silently obeyed. I quickly went to the living room, climbed up on a chair and quietly searched the top shelf of the bookcases that lined one wall. When I found what I was looking for I pulled it down. It was the small tin box I had stumbled upon when I had first moved in. I never asked Greg about it, because frankly it was none of my business, but now was not the time to pretend I didn't know it existed. I grabbed the box and quietly took a bottle of water out of the fridge. Silently, I walked back to our bedroom and locked the door behind me.

Greg was laying on the bed, fully dressed, eyes clenched, furiously rubbing his leg with one hand and rubbing his brow with the other. I sat down on the edge of the bed, next to him and put my hand on his chest. "I brought you a bottle of water and this," I whispered to him, opening the tin box to reveal a handful of syringes and a few vials labeled morphine.

He took his hand off his forehead and looked at the box. "Oh, God, I love you," he breathed. A wave of relief washed over his face. "How did you-"?

I cut him off, "It's not important." I handed him a syringe and a vial of morphine as he sat up. He took the syringe and quickly filled it completely with the morphine. I silently hoped he wasn't overdosing, but reprimanded myself for even thinking that Greg House could possibly get a medical procedure wrong, even if he was strung out. He placed the syringe on the nightstand and started looking in the box for something. Finding the rubber tourniquet, he shut the box.

"Can you tie off my left arm with this?" He handed me the tourniquet, taking off his button down shirt to reveal a white tee shirt underneath.

"Is this tight enough?" I asked, tightening the tourniquet around his bicep.

He nodded his head as he slowly clenched and unclenched his fist. Grabbing the syringe, he found a vein at the crook of his arm and injected himself. He threw the syringe on a chair and ripped off the tourniquet. The change was almost instantaneous as the medicine poured into his veins. His eyes glazed over and he had a slight smile on his face as he lay back down. I took the box from the bed and put it down on the floor. I quietly walked back to my side of the bed and climbed under the covers.

"Isabella, thank you," he stared right at me, his gorgeous blue eyes clouded in a drug haze, "for taking care of me."

I reached over to him and caressed his cheek. "That is what you do for your husband," I replied softly.

"No. Wives do not put fights on hold to care for their asshole husbands, unquestioningly. You are an amazing woman and I don't deserve you." Even in his drugged up state, I saw sincerity in his eyes as he spoke. Greg rarely shared how he felt about me and I didn't really need him to. He told me he loved me often enough and since I wasn't a very emotional person either, it worked for us. But as he spoke to me, I felt like a giddy schoolgirl being asked out by a long time crush.

"Yes you do, Greg," I told him. He leaned in for a long kiss, so tender and soft. When he broke the kiss, he wrapped his arm around my waist, holding me close. He placed his head on my chest, nestled right underneath mine. I held him tightly, rubbing his hair as I felt his breathing slow into the low, steady rhythm of sleep. I continued to rub his hair and stroke his back as he slept off his potent combination of excessive consumption of narcotics and alcohol and the intense pain of his leg. But I couldn't sleep. I laid there in the darkness, scared. For the first time in my life, I was scared of losing someone close to me. I had never admitted to myself that I needed another human being before and I dealt with loss in the usual unhealthy ways: drinking, wild sex and denial. But at that moment, holding Greg, I was terrified that I would lose him to his never-ending battle with pain and I would not be able to recover.

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"What the hell is that?" Greg asked groggily, lifting his hand off my waist to rub his forehead.

I listened to the piercing cries of a baby ruining the atmosphere of my previously habitually silent apartment. I looked over at the clock and saw that it was only 4 am. "It must be the spawn of my sister."

"Go tell it to shut up. I actually have to work today," he grumbled into my chest.

"Don't be ridiculous, Greg, I am not going to tell an infant to shut up. That is way more your territory." I teased him.

I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before and the argument and Greg's leg still hung heavy on my mind. He seemed fine enough, but I knew it was purely because the morphine had yet to wear off. When I felt him lazily running his hand up and down my thigh and stomach, I decided to bring up last night.

"Greg," I started tentatively, "I want to talk about yesterday." I could hear the cries of my niece only intensifying.

He let his hand stop right underneath my belly button and he began tapping his fingers on my flat stomach. "Well, I guess we might as well. It's not like I'm going to get back to sleep with the drama queen in the next room," he answered, his voice heavy with sleep.

"I'm sorry I let my sister and her family stay here." I casually stroked his cheek, the stubble rough under my touch.

Then something amazing happened. Greg House, Mr. Personal Space, the man who yelled at a maid for ten minutes because she hung up his coat conceded to me. "You have nothing to apologize for. They are your family and this is your place as much as it is mine. You should be able to have your family over." He looked up at me and met my gaze. "I overreacted because I was in pain. I'm sorry."

My niece continued to scream in the next room, but the cries were becoming less and less constant. I was hoping my sister would be able to quiet her soon. 'If this happens every morning, Greg will be wishing he could take all that back,' I thought to myself.

I bit my lip, preparing to ask the question I dreaded the most. He was always so prickly about his leg and I didn't want him to think I was prying into something that wasn't my business, but I had to know. "Did something happen, Greg? You seem to be in so much pain."

His hand moved from my stomach to his leg. "No, nothing happened. I have a gaping hole where a thigh muscle should be, but other than that, I'm great," he snapped at me.

I stopped touching him and moved over in the bed, putting a good amount of personal space between us. "Don't be a smart ass, Greg. Last night, I have never seen you like that before. So either you are a secret junkie or your pain level has increased. Which is it? And believe me, either answer is fine with me."

He looked at me with the same look of desperation and hopelessness that I saw last night. And my heart went out to him. "I live in pain." I looked away from him, not wanting him to see the tears welling up. "Pain that on good days is merely intolerable and on bad ones will suck the life force right out of you. Since I met you, my bad days have become fewer and my good days more frequent. But this last week has been one bad day after the other and last night I let the pain break me. Bella, I am sorry."

I felt one tear roll down my check and I knew it would not be long before the tears poured out of me. I felt like the world's biggest bitch. Yesterday I had kicked him out because I thought he was just getting high when in reality he was trying to numb his pain. He had never spoken to me about his pain in any length before. He reached up to my cheek and caught the tear. "Please don't cry, Bella."

I turned to look at him and his face softened into the look he saved for our tender moments. "But Greg, I feel so useless."

He wrapped his arms around my middle and pulled me up against his body. I buried my face in his chest and silently wept. I rarely cried in front of him. I felt the act was a sign of weakness and vulnerability and it was something I did not waste my time doing. But I couldn't help it. Before I could stop myself, the tears poured out of me, moistening his shirt. "Bella, last night, as I was downing an entire month's supply of Vicodin and more alcohol than you can imagine, the only thing that stopped the inevitable march towards an overdose was you. If this had happened and I didn't have you to come home to, I can almost guarantee I would have drugged and drank myself to death. Don't feel useless. You have saved me."

He kissed my forehead and continued rubbing my back though my thin tank top. I looked up at him, my face tear stained. He placed his hands on my cheeks and pulled my head up for a kiss. "I love you," he stated simply, his lips brushing against mine. I tilted my head up for another kiss and he gave in to me. I felt his grip on my back tighten, silently telling me not to move. In response, I deepened our kiss and moved even closer to him, intertwining our legs. As we kissed, I heard my niece falling back asleep and all movement from our living room ceasing.

"You should try to get back to sleep. Lisa will kill me if I let you shirk your responsibilities two days in a row," I whispered to him.

He half-heartedly nodded. I knew he wanted sex, but I also knew it wasn't best for him to put any unnecessary strain on his leg. I stayed up against him since he refused to let me go. In no time at all, he fell asleep and then I soon followed, curled up next to him, his grip never lessoning.


	6. Superfly

**AN: First of all, thank you so much for all the kind words! It is extremely encouraging to read your reviews! Thanks! This is a completely AU story and the timing of events are a little OOC. I don't own House or any of the other characters from the show, although I wish I did. I do, however, own the Gallaghers and Meredith Sawyer.**

**Chapter Six: Superfly**

**The Next Morning**

The piercing sound of the telephone ringing and the subsequent wails of my niece jolted Greg and I awake. I felt him jump against my body. I heard my sister trying to comfort Bridget and Beth groaning loudly through the walls as Greg reached over me to pick up the phone. "Who is calling us at 8 am?" I moaned, having been asleep for all of three hours.

"This better be good," Greg barked into the phone. I closed my eyes and snuggled back up to Greg. He reached down to his leg and started massaging the thigh muscle. "But I don't wanna," he griped in his most annoying teenager voice. "Fine," Greg muttered into the phone.

He hung up the phone and looked down at me. "I have to go to work."

I rubbed his back through his tee shirt and let out a little whimper. "Why?"

I felt him smile against my forehead and his stubble scratched at me as he spoke. "That witch of a woman is making me go in cause I missed yesterday. Something about clinic duty and kids having strokes, I don't know."

I feigned sympathy, "Oh boo hoo, your boss is making you do your job. Sucks to be you."

"Wow, three years at Georgetown Law and you use phrases like sucks to be you? I am so turned on by your intellect."

I giggled at him. I was glad he was joking. He seemed to be in a better mood then he was last night, but I knew I needed to ask. "You seem to be feeling better this morning. How are you?"

He pulled away from me slightly, rubbing his forehead. I could tell he was thinking about lying. He always took long pauses before he was going to be sarcastic with me. But then his face softened and he said, "It's not going to be a good day. The morphine helped, but I can feel it wearing off."

I reached up to touch his cheek. "Greg, you need to take time off."

He gently removed himself from my embrace and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "What I need is to go to work." He walked over to the closet, pulled out a pair of jeans and a black tee shirt and put them on. His tee shirt fit him in all the right places, his strong arms visible in the short sleeves of his cotton graphic tee. I sat up in bed as I watched him throw on the brown Converse high tops that matched my own.

"I'm sure if you just talked to Lisa she would give you the time," I ventured the suggestion, watching as he buttoned up a sleet grey dress shirt as he looked for a blazer.

He stopped searching for the black blazer he wore the day before and looked straight at me. "Isabella, no. No one else can know about this. If I ask Cuddy for time off, she will need to know why, then she will tell Wilson and then Wilson will harass me about seeing a shrink, going to rehab or physical therapy, and other equally annoying things all while cutting off my supply of Vicodin."

"Fine." I broke his gaze and decided to drop the subject even though I thought he was being ridiculous.

He grabbed his cane from where he left it last night, hanging on the doorframe, and limped over to the bed, his blazer slung over his free arm. He leaned down for a kiss, but I pulled away, with a slight smile on my face. "God, Greg, you're not even going to shower?"

"You mean with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum hanging out in my living room? No way! Besides, if I shower at work it will waste an hour of my day," he smirked, as he grabbed the prescription bottle from the nightstand.

I sat up and gave him a kiss. "Should we wait for you for dinner?" I asked as he walked towards the door.

"Um, I'll let you know after I see what has Cuddy's panties in a bunch this morning."

He opened the door to our bedroom and the wails of my niece bombarded us. "I'll call you."

"Bye," I called after him.

"Bella?" my sister shrieked from the living room.

I fell back on my bed, not wanting to answer my sister or get up. "Bella!" my sister persisted.

I got out of bed and grabbed one of Greg's blue button downs to throw on. I didn't necessarily want Callum getting too much of a look at my body. I looked at myself in our mirror to make sure I was presentable and I threw my hair up in a bun. I didn't like not being put together and showered in front of other people, even my own sister. I hated that I was going to go out in to see my sister and her husband dressed in a wrinkled shirt and boxers with no make up on. 'So kill me, I know I am a little vain,' I thought to myself. I sighed loudly as I walked into the living room.

"Good morning," I smiled. Callum and Rebecca had laid out their inflatable mattress right in the middle of my living room. They were lying in their bed with baby Bridget in between them. Beth was curled up on the couch. "Oh, I see you felt free to move my furniture," I said, pointing to the coffee table and TV stand that had been shoved to the corner, up against Greg's baby grand piano.

Rebecca got up from the bed and ran over to give me a hug. "Morning! I hope Bridget wasn't too much of a disturbance last night."

I saw Beth rolling her eyes at her mother. Nudging her feet so she would move them, I sat down on the couch and Rebecca went back to her husband. "Oh, no. It was fine," I lied.

"Morning, love," Callum greeted me with a kiss on the check.

"Hi Bridget!" I reached down and tickled the little girl in the stomach, producing a huge amount of laughter from her. "Morning Beth. Did you sleep okay on the couch?"

Beth looked at me as if I had told her she would have to sleep outside tomorrow. "It was fine. I just didn't get to sleep until two because someone," she looked right at her little sister, "kept me awake."

I chucked to myself while my sister admonished her eldest daughter. "Beth, don't complain, at least you had somewhere to sleep." Rebecca wrapped Bridget in a blanket and placed her in the portable crib that had been set up. "So, lil sis, what is on the schedule for today?" Rebecca asked.

"Well, I don't know. What do you guys want to do today?" I asked, wishing I had caffeine flowing through my system.

Rebecca turned to her husband and said in her baby voice, "Sweetums? What do you wanna do today, punkin?"

"Oh, love, I don't know, what do you want to do, boo bear?" Callum answered in an even more annoying voice.

Beth made a disgusted face, "Geez, can't you guys talk like normal human beings?" Rebecca and Callum both ignored her.

I clapped my hands on my knees, "Well, why don't you two figure that out while I get some caffeine."

"Ooh! Are you making coffee?" Rebecca asked as I walked into the kitchen.

"Oh, Becca, do you know me not at all? When I say caffeine, I mean of course in some kind of carbonated form. But I do have coffee and tea if you guys want some," I shouted back to them.

I heard whispering from the living room and then, "We will have some tea, Bella Boo!" my sister called.

"Bella Boo. God, my sister is such a child," I muttered to myself. I grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge and placed a kettle on the stovetop. I walked back into the living room. "I put the water on for your tea. So, did you guys decide what to do today?"

"Wait till you hear this," my niece mumbled to me as I sat down next to her.

"Yes and I think it would be super fun, don't you, Callum?" my sister turned to her husband and gave him a kiss. Callum nodded his head at her with a goofy grin on his face. Rebecca turned back to face me and said, "We want to see where you work!"

My face fell. "What? Why?" I sputtered out at her.

"Told ya," Beth whispered.

"Because it would be fun. Besides, I have never been in a hospital as an insider, you know? It would be fun to get the behind the scenes tour. Plus, Beth has been talking about becoming a doctor. Maybe it would be good for her to see a real hospital."

"Wow, really Beth? You want to be a doctor?" I turned to Beth.

Beth just shrugged her shoulders, "Maybe."

A devilish grin crept onto my face. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, Becca. We should definitely go to the hospital. Plus, we can have lunch with Greg!" I said, and then I thought, 'Ha, serves him right for trying to ditch me with my family.'

Rebecca jumped up from the inflatable mattress and clapped her hands rapidly like a child. "Goody! This is going to be the best day." The whistling of the kettle interrupted Rebecca's celebration.

"I'll get the tea, love. Any for you, Isabella?" Callum stood up to get the tea.

I took a long sip from my Coke, "Nope, I'm good. Thanks." I stood up and looked at the clock. "Well, I better hop in the shower and get ready. Sorry, guys, we only have one bathroom, so we will have to get ready in shifts." I placed my Coke on the top of the television and started to leave, when I was interrupted by Callum's voice.

"Love? Um, are these supposed to be hidden in your sugar jar?" Callum held up an orange prescription bottle.

I rubbed my forehead as I took the bottle. Why Greg felt the need to hide his pain pills all over the house was beyond me. It was like he was prepared for a police raid at all times. "No. Thanks, Callum. Greg must have misplaced these." I walked towards the bathroom, hoping to avoid a conversation.

"What is Greg on? He seems to be taking a lot of pills." Rebecca had that annoying mock concern tone in her voice.

"You know, Becca, I don't want to be a bitch, but that is not really any of your business."

Rebecca looked at me, shocked. "Bella! Please watch your language! And don't get all mean, I was just concerned."

I took a deep breath. "No you're not, Rebecca. You are just looking for any excuse as proof that I made a terrible choice in Greg."

"Ladies, please, let's not argue. Isabella, Bex here was just being concerned. And Bex, come on, you can see how those kinds of questions can upset Isabella. So let's just leave it at that, yes?" Callum stepped in to referee.

I gave Callum a little smile. "You're right, Callum. Sorry Becca."

"Yeah, I'm sorry, too, Bella. Hugs?" I gave my sister a quick hug and then desperately sought the refuge of the shower.

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"Okay, let's go!" I yelled at my sister and brother-in-law, who were struggling to get Bridget and all her baby crap in the stroller. Beth was leaning up against the doorframe, watching her parents without offering any help. As I grabbed my purse and wool trench coat, I took one more look at myself in the mirror. I had tucked my Hudsons into my Chanel riding boots and wore a crisp white blouse. I hated going in to work on my days off. There was always the pressure to look professional, but not too dressed up. Plus, on this particular occasion, I wanted to show that I was the hotter sister. Petty, I know, but there is nothing I can do about our childish competition.

We had decided to walk to the hospital. Callum and Rebecca are real naturalists and wanted to see Princeton. They finally wrangled Bridget into the stroller and in response she started babbling to herself happily. Beth was not happy about having to walk and she promptly started listening to her iPod in silent protest.

"I gotta say, Becca. She is adorable," I told her, gesturing towards Bridget, as we walked out the door.

"Isn't she? Don't you ever think of having a little one?"

I shoved my hands in my pockets and shrugged. "Um, not really. Greg and I aren't really kid people."

Rebecca kept quiet, which I silently thanked her for. As we walked the eight miles to the hospital, Rebecca and Callum exclaimed at the fresh snow that had fallen over night. Bridget garbled incoherently which her proud parents giggled at incessantly. Beth kept her distance, walking a good ten feet behind us, head bopping along to whatever music she was listening to. I kept quiet for the most part, only responding when asked a direct question. When we reached the front courtyard of the hospital, I glanced at my watch. 'Okay, 11 o'clock. Perfect timing. Greg, must be getting ready to eat,' I thought to myself.

When we entered the lobby, I noticed Lisa standing at the nurse's station. I turned to my guests, "So, you guys ready to start your behind the scenes tour?" I didn't wait for an answer as I walked over to Lisa.

"Isabella! Aren't you on vacation?" Lisa asked, bewildered, as she handed the nurse some charts she had finished signing. Looking past me, she noticed Rebecca. "Becky?" Lisa said, excitement in her voice.

"Lisa!" Rebecca exclaimed, giving Lisa a big hug. "How are you?"

"I am fantastic. And how about you?" Lisa said, a big smile on her face.

"I'm great. Lisa, I'd like you to meet my husband, Callum and our daughters Bridget and Beth."

"It's great to meet you Callum, Beth. And oh my God! She is just the cutest thing I have ever seen!" Lisa shook hands with the adults and then knelt down to tickle Bridget.

"Oh thank you, Lisa. You know, you really must join us for dinner some night this week. We need to catch up. It has been entirely too long," Rebecca said.

Lisa started laughing. "Oh, God, I don't think there is enough alcohol in the world to make House have dinner with me."

Rebecca and Callum looked puzzled, while Beth watched the proceedings with an amused look on her face. Beth reminded me a lot of Greg and myself, always more content to observe others than actually being directly involved. "Greg and Lisa don't technically get along very well," I explained.

Callum flashed a huge smile. "Well, who cares? I say we do it anyway!"

"Well, I definitely like him," Lisa said, referring to Callum.

Rebecca stroked his arm, "Isn't he dreamy?"

Callum blushed and whispered to Rebecca, "Love, you've got to stop doing that." She just smiled at him.

"Yeah, Lisa, Callum's right. You should come over for dinner this Friday. Patrick and his wife are coming over and I'm inviting James and Meredith. It will be a nice holiday get together."

"That would be great." Lisa's pager went off and she looked at it. "Oh, shoot, I got to go. It was wonderful to see you, Becky. We will get together before you leave town."

"Bye Lisa," Rebecca said.

"I'll call you later. All right. You guys want to go see my office?" I asked.

I took them up to the fourth floor where my office was and showed them around. They were adequately impressed with my office. My sister was especially impressed with my big fancy desk complete with nice leather chair and my brother-in-law was equally impressed with my Georgetown Law diploma. Beth thought it was cool I had an assistant. It was just the reaction I was looking for. Since I was married but didn't have any children, my sister had always thought there was something missing in my life, that I was not complete. Because of that, I liked to show off the aspects of my life I had done well in: education, wealth, status. As superficial as it sounds, I liked spending my money on material things and the hottest fashion trends. Since I married Greg, my income had basically doubled because he never spent his money on anything but Vicodin and sneakers. I was free to spend our money on Chanel and Louis Vuitton business wear. That was important to me. It pleased me that my sister thought my office was impressive. After the grand tour of my large office, I thought I would impress them even more with my husband's prestige and status.

Now Greg was an ass who did not get along with anyone, but he was an impressive doctor. His colleagues hated him, but they respected his medical knowledge and he was able to solve cases that no one else could. He was a world-renowned diagnostician and I was excited to show him off. I secretly hoped that he would have a patient as we walked the short distance across the hall to his office.

We approached the office labeled _Gregory House, M.D. Department of Diagnostic Medicine_. Through the glass walls of his office, I could see that he was in the adjoining conference room with his three Fellows. So I led my guests into his empty office. Greg was standing at his white board twirling the black marker in his fingers with his back to his office. Sawyer and Cameron were gesturing wildly at each other while Chase sat quietly, staring into space.

"You can take a seat anywhere. I am going to go next door and tell Greg we are here." I pointed to the empty chairs set around Greg's desk.

I opened the glass door that separated his office from the bigger conference room. All four sets of eyes turned on me as they immediately stopped talking.

Greg looked at his watch. "Oh, is it already time for our sex-pointment?"

As I rolled my eyes, I noticed Chase stifling giggles and Cameron and Meredith looking uncomfortable. "Yeah, you wish. I was actually wondering if you wanted to go to lunch."

Greg turned back to his white board and tapped the marker on his chin. "Where did the Acid Queen and Ringo run off to today?"

My face spread into a huge smile. "Oh, they are sitting in your office. We will wait there for you to finish."

"Ahhh, please don't make me," he whined. I just stared him down, not saying anything. "Fine, let me finish this up. I'll be there in a minute," he relented.

I turned to leave the office and said over my shoulder, "Don't you dare try to sneak out of here. These are glass walls. I can see everything." Then remembering I still had to invite Meredith to my little dinner party on Friday, I turned around quickly and said, "Oh, Meredith, give me a call later. I have something to discuss with you."

Meredith smiled at me, "Awesome. I can't wait."

As I closed the door behind me, I noticed Greg rolling his eyes at me. I didn't care.

"Wow, Bella, Greg has three other doctors working for him?" Rebecca asked.

"Yeah. They work directly for him. He is the head of the department of diagnostic medicine here."

Beth stared intently at an x-ray film Greg had left up on the x-ray illuminator bolted onto the wall. "This is so cool," she mumbled to herself, and then out loud, "Aunt Bella, what is diagnostic medicine?"

I paused for a second, trying to figure out the best way to describe Greg's job. "Um, it is a very specialized department that only deals with medical cases that no one else can solve. Greg is amazing at being able to diagnose patients that have been shuffled from doctor to doctor for years and he is very well known in his field, all over the world. He is the most brilliant person I know. You know Beth, if you are serious about becoming a doctor, you should really talk to him. Believe me, a recommendation from Greg House would almost guarantee you a spot anywhere you want."

"Cool," Beth replied, wandering over to the model of a brain sitting on Greg's desk.

Callum was looking around at the books on Greg's bookcase. "Your bloke has a lot of smart sounding books over here."

"Well, I am very smart sounding," Greg said as he limped into the office.

"Hey, Gregy! How is your day going?" Rebecca said.

"Fabulous," he answered sarcastically. He walked over to his desk and plopped down in the chair. There was a quick flash of pain in his eyes as he sat and I knew the day was not going well. Callum, Beth and Rebecca continued to look around his office, examining the medical equipment while Bridget slept peacefully in her stroller.

"Hey, why don't you guys check out the room next door? There is all kinds of cool stuff in there," I suggested, pointing to the now empty conference room. I saw Beth's eyes grow wide with excitement.

"Brilliant," Callum muttered.

"How exciting, a real doctor's office!" my sister squealed.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Greg asked, "Isabella, why do you hate me?" He shook out a pill from the bottle he had pulled out of his jacket pocket.

I put my head in my hands and let out a frustrated sigh. "God, Greg, I could not spend another minute alone with them, and then my sister said she really wanted to see where I worked, so I thought I would come by and say hi and I was hoping that you would have lunch with us," I rambled.

He scratched his chin with the back of his hand and stared at me. "Bella, I don't do the whole family thing. I can't have lunch with you guys every day. If I do, I am pretty sure I will kill one of them, probably both."

I smiled a little. "I know. Believe me, I know. It's just I have such a hard time saying no to her."

"So I've noticed. Why is that? I have never seen you act this way, ever. Does she have pictures of you getting all gooey over a newborn or something?" he asked.

I smiled at him. "No. When my parents died, she had to move back in to my parents' house with Callum and Beth, who was only 2, to take care of my brother and I. She always made it quite clear that it was the last thing she wanted to do. She was starting a new family and now she had to care for a couple of teenagers, in addition to her own child. Because of that, I have always felt guilty. I don't know. I sound pretty lame, huh?"

He didn't say anything. He just stared intently at me, listening to my story. I shook my head, almost as if I was physically trying to shake the memory out of my mind and said, "Anyway, it's not important." I walked over to where his was sitting and leaned on his desk, giving him a nice view of my ample cleavage and whispered, ever so lightly grazing his ear with my lips as I spoke, "If you do this for me, I will make it very worth your while."

His breath caught slightly in his throat and I placed the tiniest of kisses on his cheek. I straightened up and looked right at him, noticing his irregular breathing. "So, ready for lunch?"

He looked at me with his mouth slightly agape. "Okay, let's get this over with." He composed himself, grabbing his blazer as he stood.

As the six of us made our way down to the cafeteria, Rebecca rambled on and on about the hospital. Callum listened intently and agreed with everything she said. We entered the cafeteria and grabbed our food. Grilled cheese sandwich for Beth and I, Reuben for Greg, turkey sandwich for Callum, egg salad sandwich for Rebecca and applesauce for Bridget. We found an empty table and sat down.

"It is just brilliant that you work together," Callum said.

"It has its good and bad days," I smiled.

"Yeah, on good days we have sex in my office and on bad days we have sex in her office," Greg added after taking a huge bite of his sandwich.

Callum let out a chuckle while Rebecca stared wide-eyed at me. Usually I did not feel the need to apologize or even comment on what Greg said, but there was still a little part of me that wanted my sister's approval. "Oh, he is just kidding," I assured her.

Greg looked right at me with a devilish smile. "She is just being modest. We do it everyday, usually twice a day."

I rubbed my forehead. While the information may be true, I definitely did not want Greg broadcasting it to my sister, brother-in-law and niece. I leaned in to Greg and whispered very quietly in his ear, "If you keep this up, I might be inclined to renege on my previous offer."

I turned back to my sandwich as Greg shut up. We ate in silence for a few minutes before Rebecca finally spoke.

"So, Greg, do you enjoy being a doctor?"

Greg looked intensely at her, contemplating his words carefully, before responding sarcastically. "It is very glamorous," he answered while fishing his prescription bottle out of his pocket. He washed down a pill with my Coke. "Drink your own soda," I muttered to Greg and he stuck his tongue out at me.

"It must be downright exciting to work in a hospital," Callum said.

"I am living the dream." Greg started looking around the cafeteria, desperately looking for some way to get out of the inane drivel that was the lunch conversation. Then I saw his eyes fall on a figure across the room and he muttered, "Thank God."

Dr. Chase started walking towards our table. When he got to our table, his face lit up. I had always thought he had a little thing for me. "Isabella, it's wonderful to see you again," he said, not taking his eyes off me.

"Did you have something specific to tell me or did you just want to come over here to gawk at my wife?" Greg leaned forward and broke Chase's gaze. I rolled my eyes at Greg and playfully pushed him back.

"Um, yeah, we just finished Megan's MRI and it was clean." Chase handed Greg a large folder labeled radiology. Greg took it from Chase's hand and pulled out the images, holding them up to the light. I could see a smile forming on Beth's lips as she watched Greg looking at the images.

"Oh, my gosh, this is so exciting! We are seeing real life doctoring," Rebecca said with excitement.

"Is that a picture of her brain?" Callum added.

"You from London, mate?" Chase turned to Callum.

"Manchester! Let me guess, Sydney?" Callum was giddy.

"Melbourne, actually," Chase answered, a smile on his face.

"Sorry to interrupt this little tea party, but why are you here if you have no new information for me?" Greg asked, shoving the images back into their folder.

Chase cleared his throat. "Because we have no new information. House, all the tests have been negative."

"Are Cameron and Sawyer back from her house yet?" Greg looked quizzically up at Chase.

"Nope."

"Then keep the patient stable and find me when they get back. It must be something in the home." Greg handed the MRI back to Chase. "Now go. I'm trying to eat here."

"Bye Isabella," he smiled at me and then nodded at Rebecca and Callum.

"He seems like a nice bloke," Callum said. "Hey we should invite him to the dinner too."

Greg stared at Callum, then back to me. "What dinner?"

"Oh goodness, we should really be going. Greg needs to get back to work, we need to go grocery shopping." I stood up and started gathering up my trash.

"Blimey, should I not have said anything?" Callum asked.

"What dinner? Are you making me eat with boy wonder and my pregnant employee again?"

"Greg, if you can let this go now, I will tell you all about it later tonight, while naked." Rebecca and Callum both stared at me. I heard Callum whisper to Rebecca, "Why don't you ever tell me things naked?"

Rebecca whispered back, "Because it's weird." I giggled a little at my sister's prudishness and at my brother-in-law's jealousy.

Greg rolled his eyes and said, "Fine, but when I get home you better be naked."


	7. Re: Stacks

**AN: Thank you everyone for reading and reviewing! Your kind words are encouraging. I know that it might seem like this fic is kind of meandering along, but I promise it is building up to something good. Thank you thank you thank you for reading!**

"_**This is not the sound of a new man or crispy realization**_

_**It's the sound of the unlocking and the lift away**_

_**Your love will be**_

_**Safe with me."**_

**- Bon Iver**

**Chapter Seven: Re: Stacks**

**That Night**

That night my sister, thankfully, was exhausted and actually wanted to go to bed early. I was able to retreat to the safety of my bedroom by ten to wait for Greg to get home. I knew he was avoiding spending time with my family by hanging out in his office, no doubt watching television or playing his Game Boy. I just hoped he would come home soon. I climbed into my bed to read that week's _New England Journal of Medicine_. Since I was an attorney for a hospital, I did like to be as knowledgeable as I could about the field. After only about fifteen minutes, I heard a light knocking at my bedroom door. Since I had already changed into a very thin, very tight white tank top, without a bra, and a pair of Greg's plaid boxers in anticipation of his arrival, I really did not want to see anybody.

"Who is it?" I called.

"It's Beth," my niece's muffled voice answered.

Intrigued as to what she would want, I grabbed one of Greg's shirts from the chair in the corner and slipped it on. "Come in."

The door slowly opened and I saw my niece standing in my doorway. "Aunt Bella, are you awake? I saw your light on."

"Yeah, did you need something, Beth?"

She took one step inside the room. "No, just couldn't sleep."

I smiled at her and patted Greg's empty spot on the bed. "I can't either. Come on, we can talk, catch up."

Beth quietly closed the door behind her and came bounding over to the bed. She sat down underneath the comforter, facing me. She looked around the room a little, her eyes falling on the prescription bottles on the nightstand next to her.

"So, what's up, Beth? We haven't really had a chance to talk since you guys got here," I smiled at her.

"Nothing much. You know, I am graduating this year," she said, off handedly.

"I know, that is just great. I haven't told your mom yet, but I am definitely going to come."

Her face brightened a little. "Really? You are?"

"Well of course! I can't let my favorite niece graduate from high school without me being there." I gave her a huge smile. "So, have you thought about where to go next year?"

"I applied to Princeton, Columbia, and Cambridge, but I haven't heard from anybody yet."

"I didn't know you were looking into schools here. I would have thought for sure you would go to school in England," I said, curious.

"Yeah, well, I don't really know. I just applied to those schools because they have pretty good pre-med programs, but I don't know how far away from home I want to go," Beth told me, growing a little more sullen.

"Why not?" I prodded.

"I don't know." Beth looked down at her hands, "Aunt Bella, can I ask you something? About you and Greg?"

"Of course," I answered, not exactly sure where she was going.

"How did you know Greg was the one?" she asked timidly.

I looked down at my wedding ring, turning it around and around on my finger. I had been asked this question many times since I married Greg, but it was always asked in a disdainful tone, more what-did-I-see-in-Greg-House than the romantic way my niece was asking me now. I had never answered the question honestly, until now.

"People like your parents, the kind of people who give each other nicknames like schmoopie and snookums, will tell you they know the exact moment they realized that their significant other was 'the one.' The story usually includes overly romantic gestures that they then base their entire relationship on. For Greg and I, it wasn't like that. There was not one moment. Every moment I spend with him solidifies my decision. Each and every second we spend together, we do so because we have made the conscious decision to be together. I think that what makes us so special is it just so happens that even though we are completely independent people, we make the choice to be with each other and share our lives with each other. We are not together because we are married and we have to be. We are together because we choose to be."

Beth looked at me with a slight smile on her face. "Wow, that was deep."

"Yeah, I guess so." I returned her smile. "Beth, is there someone special in your life?"

She looked down and I could see her begin to blush. Without all the Goth makeup and clothing, Beth looked angelic and sweet. In that moment I saw through her tough exterior and saw a scared young woman trying to figure out a new relationship.

She pushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Well, yeah, I have a boyfriend."

"And, you are thinking about deciding which college to go to based on your boyfriend?" I asked in disbelief.

"Um, well, I don't know, maybe," she seemed embarrassed. "I just can't figure out if he is worth it, you know? I mean you and Greg seem so perfect for each other, like two halves. And I really like this guy that I am seeing, I mean, I am not going to marry him or anything, at least not for a really long time, but I was just wondering how do you know who is the right kind of guy for you?" She sounded like the stereotypical teenager, her words melding into one long sentence.

"Beth, you are only seventeen. While this guy might seem like the one you are going to spend your life with, he is most likely not. You have so many more opportunities to find the man who you are meant to be with. I mean, I didn't even find the right guy for me until I was almost 30."

"Yeah, I guess. I just don't know what to do."

I reached over to her arm, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "Beth, do you want my advice?"

She nodded her head. "All my mum ever tells me is that if I am happy with him now, I should just stay with him and get married. It would be nice to get the opinion of someone whose entire goal in life does not involve procreating."

I laughed a little. "Yeah, I can see that. Look, Beth, don't make your decision based on him. If it is meant to be, it will happen, wherever you go to college. If you two do break up, you will regret making this decision for him for the rest of your life. Believe me, I have been there."

"Thanks, Aunt Bella."

Suddenly Beth and I were interrupted by Greg finally coming home. I rolled my eyes when I heard him sarcastically apologizing to the sleeping guests for waking them up. Not even trying to be quiet, he thumped down the hall and as he entered the bedroom, I heard Bridget start to cry.

"They have got to go," he said, as he tossed the bottle of rum he was holding on the bed, not noticing Beth sitting with me. I looked over at Beth, who was staring at the bottle of rum. Greg limped into the room, tossing his cane onto the floor by his side of the bed, noticing Beth for the first time. "And now they are in my room," Greg whined to me.

"She was just keeping me company." I turned to Beth, "Sorry, he gets grumpy when he has to work past 5."

She stood up from the bed. "It's okay, I would get grumpy too," she said, giving Greg a little smile. "Good night, Aunt Bella. Thanks for the chat."

"Anytime and maybe we can squeeze in some time for just the two of us before your trip is over."

She walked towards the door, passing Greg. "Cool. See you guys in the morning."

Greg watched her leave with a bemused look on his face. "They have got to go," he repeated to me the second Beth closed the door behind her.

"They have only been here for two nights. Stop being so dramatic," I told him as I watched him take off his overcoat and blazer, throwing them unceremoniously on the chair in the corner.

Unbuttoning his shirt as he struggled to limp over to the bed, he said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "Yes and in those two nights they have already managed to keep me from my nightly ritual of watching _The L Word_ with a glass of bourbon." He plopped down on the bed, hard, with his back to me, and began furiously rubbing his right leg. I noticed an audible wince escape his lips.

I placed a hand on his back, gently rubbing it. "How is your leg today?"

"Fine." He immediately stopped rubbing his leg and turned to face me, swinging his legs onto the bed. "Now, I was promised nakedness."

I gave him a little smile, "Don't you want to hear about all the dinner plans Callum and Rebecca have been making with your co-workers?"

He contemplated me for a second, then said, "I do if you strip while you tell me."

I got up off the bed and walked around to his side. His eyes followed me as I walked. I stood right in front of him, but just out of his reach. He placed one hand behind his head as he grabbed the rum bottle, taking a swig directly from the bottle.

I took the tee shirt I had used to cover up with off and threw it on the floor. "Well, we ran into Lisa before getting to your office," I slowly stepped out of the boxers, revealing a black lace thong, "and you know they were childhood friends so," I began lifting my tank top, "she invited Lisa to have dinner with all of us one night this week." I threw my tank top over my head showing Greg my perky alabaster breasts. He reached out a hand to touch me, but almost immediately dropped it back to his side. Greg's face was a mixture of extreme arousal and confusion over the dinner invitation.

"Wait, all of us, you mean, me too?" Greg said, his breath ragged, never taking his eyes off me.

"Of course. So Friday night, Rebecca, Callum, Beth, James, Meredith, Lisa, Patrick and his wife, and apparently Chase," I very slowly slid my panties down my legs, never breaking eye contact, "are going to have dinner with you and me and we are all going to act like civilized human beings." I tossed the underwear aside with my toes and just stood in front of him, completely naked, hands on my hips. "So, does that sound okay?"

The look in his eyes told me his answer before he spoke. "Yeah, whatever," he said, breathless. He took another swig of the rum and then placed the bottle on the nightstand. Then, he held out his hand to me. Greg had a hard exterior, but he was a true romantic at heart and when he did things like this it just floored me. I got a huge kick out of the small gestures. Instead of grabbing me and throwing me into bed, he held my hand and led me back to our bed. His hand was cool against mine. As I walked closer to the edge of the bed, he never let go of my hand.

We said nothing to each other as I climbed back into bed, placing my naked body on his fully clothed body. Avoiding putting any extra weight on his right leg, I straddled him, keeping my eyes on his the entire time. I leaned down and kissed his cheek then began lightly tracing his jaw line with my tongue, feeling every wrinkle and short strand of facial hair. I felt him place his hands gently on my back, running them over my spine. As he continued to stroke my back, inching closer and closer to my ass, I inched closer and closer to his mouth. Then pulling back just enough so I was barely touching him with my lips, I whispered, "I love you, Greg House."

His gorgeous blue eyes bore right into my soul with a tenderness he only reserved for our most intimate moments. "I love you, Isabella Gallagher." He closed the gap between us and kissed me, gently pushing his tongue against my lips until I allowed him entry. His kisses came slowly, but deliberately, each kiss growing in intensity. As he kissed me, his arms engulfed me, keeping me pressed against his body. I cupped his face in my hands as our kisses became more passionate. He softly broke the kiss and silently took my arms, wrapping them around his neck. Firmly holding my body against his with one hand, he braced himself with the other as he gently rolled me onto my back. His body covered mine as he found a comfortable position, placing both hands up above my head to take all unnecessary weight off his right leg.

I loosened my grip on his neck, placing my hands on his shoulders. "Greg-" I started to say, wanting to tell him I could be on top so his leg wouldn't hurt.

He cut me off by kissing me deeply. "This is perfect," he whispered to me, obviously knowing what I wanted to say. I gave him a small smile and a nod as I began unbuttoning his jeans. His mouth began exploring my body, then settled on my breasts, placing tender kisses on the soft flesh as I let out a soft moan. I pulled down his jeans and boxers in one move and he broke his exploration of my body to throw off his tee shirt. He kicked the jeans and boxers off his feet and immediately returned to kissing my chest and stomach. I ran my hands down his back and let my left hand come down to rest on his right thigh. I felt him flinch ever so slightly at my touch, but he did not stop kissing me. I gently massaged what was left of his thigh muscle, silently telling him that I would always be there to dull his pain.

I reached down to lift his head from my chest, bringing him to eye level with me. I pulled his head down to me and gave him a deep kiss. As our tongues intertwined, he finally entered me and I could not stop from moaning, "Oh God, Gregory."

I felt his breath hot on my neck as he managed to say, "It is…so hot…when you…call…me…that." I smiled at him as he engulfed my mouth in his. The only time I called him Gregory was when I was pissed at him and occasionally in bed, when the sex was particularly good, and Greg was well aware of that. His rhythm was slow and steady, and he continued to kiss me passionately as we both came to intense climaxes. A soft, "I love you so much, Isabella," escaped his lips as he slowly came to a stop.

"I love you more," I teased, planting a kiss on his nose. He gave me a slight smile as he carefully rolled over onto his back. He reached over to the nightstand and grabbed his prescription bottle and the rum, shaking out two Vicodin and washing them down with a swig of rum.

He pointed the bottle towards me, asking, "Want some?"

I let out a huge smile and took the bottle from him, taking a long swig from it. I placed the bottle on the nightstand and snuggled into his arms. "Thank you for letting my family stay here."

He casually ran his fingers up and down my back. "I don't remember having a choice in the matter."

"Well, you didn't, but I know you could have made this a lot worse than it already is."

"I am rather good at alienating people and making social situations unbearable."

I placed a hand on his cheek and gently stroked his stubble. "Yes. Yes you are, so thank you."

"You're welcome," he answered, sleepily. I glanced up at his face and noticed he had closed his eyes.

'This is perfect. He is falling asleep and his guard will be down,' I thought to myself, then I said out loud, "How is the pain?"

His fingers stopped tracing circles on my back. "How 'bout you stop asking me about it and I promise to tell you the minute something changes," he said, not opening his eyes.

"Fine." I sat up and reached over Greg, searching for a tee shirt to throw on. "Forgive me, I thought you actually needed some help after the morphine incident last night." I found a button down Greg had worn the day before and put it on.

"Wait a minute, you're mad at me, for acting the way I always do?" Greg opened his eyes, watching me button up the shirt and put on his boxers. "Interesting."

"Well as long as it's interesting." I started walking towards our bedroom door.

"Where are you going?"

I held the doorknob, ignoring his question. "You know, you're right, I shouldn't be mad at you. I should be mad at myself for thinking that the one night you actually let me in, show me your vulnerability, wasn't actually a fluke, that we had reached a turning point in our relationship. You know, Greg, you will continue to downplay your pain and continue refusing help from me, from James, from people who actually give a damn. And I will continue to be here at your beck and call for those rare moments when you actually find it beneficial for you to tell me what is going on. That's the way this works, right? That's the secret to our success as a couple?" I said the last comment with just a tad more bitterness and sarcasm then was probably necessary.

Greg sat up and rubbed his forehead with his thumb, avoiding my gaze. "Isabella – "

I cut him off. "Don't say anything. You will only make it worse," I said, as I walked out of our bedroom, closing the door behind me.

I quietly tiptoed into our kitchen and grabbed a bottle of Newcastle from the fridge. I could hear my sister's family still snoring away in the living room as I searched through the utensil drawer for the cigarettes I had hidden there for emergencies. Triumphantly, I pulled the package out and shoved them in the front pocket of the shirt I was wearing. Carefully, I grabbed my keys and slipped out the front door. I plopped down on our front steps, wondering how strange I looked sitting outside in boxers and a man's dress shirt at one o'clock in the morning and knocked out a cigarette.

Smoking was not one of my more attractive vices, but I was trying hard to quit. I had been smoking almost two packs a day since I was eighteen, but after I started dating Greg, I had cut back, even though at times being with him was more stressful than the reasons that led me to start smoking in the first place. This cigarette was the first one I had had all week, and as I brought it to my lips, lit it and took a slow drag, I was reminded of how good it was. I let out a satisfied moan as I puffed away in the darkness, taking occasional swigs from the beer bottle. The argument with Greg was nothing new. His leg pain and his refusal to tell me about it was obviously nothing new, but when his leg is at its worst was when we argued the most. What I had said to Greg was true, I shouldn't be mad with him. This was who Greg is and the day we married, I had promised to never expect him to change, but as our second year of marriage began, it was getting harder and harder to keep this promise.

I was jolted out of my thoughts by the sound of wood thumping on the concrete. I did not turn to face him, instead taking a nice long drag of the cigarette. I felt a heavy overcoat being placed on my shoulders and for the first time since I had gone outside I noticed how cold it was and that there was a light layer of snow on the ground.

"I saw you left your jacket inside. Thought you might be cold," Greg stated as he carefully lowered himself down to the stairs. He laid his cane down beside him and rubbed his hands together. I noticed he had thrown on his flannel pants, tee shirt, and wool overcoat. He was careful not to sit too close to me, which I thought was very smart of him. I continued taking long slow drags on my cigarette, waiting to hear what he had to say.

"Do you have another one of those?" he asked, looking at me, trying to read me.

I fished the pack out of the front pocket and handed it to him. "The Vicodin and the rum not working to your satisfaction?" I asked, my words dripping in sarcasm, as I took another drink of beer.

He took a single cigarette from the pack and placed it on his lips. Picking up the lighter I had placed on the step, he lit the cigarette and took a few quick puffs. I tried to ignore him. He smoked even less than I did, and for the most part, he chose cigars over cigarettes, but for some reason, I had always found him incredibly sexy with a cigarette on his lips and I did not want to be distracted.

He took a drag and then examined the cigarette in his fingers, thoughtfully. "I'm sorry," he took one more puff on his cigarette and tossed it on the floor, using his cane to snuff it out. He had taken all of three drags on it. He didn't particularly like cigarettes and I knew he only asked for one to give him something to say to me.

I tossed my completely smoked butt on the ground and quickly took out another one, lighting it before my old one was even done smoldering. Greg gave me a quizzical look. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head. "About what? The fact that you refuse to let me in, to let me help you? Or the fact that you unwittingly let me witness your breakdown last night?"

I stood up and turned towards the door but was stopped by a sudden grab at my arm. "Would you just sit down and listen to me? My leg hurts and I don't want to have to follow you all over the house."

I stared at him and blew a puff of smoke in his face. He did not back down, continuing to hold onto my arm, never breaking his gaze. "Greg, it is late and I need to go to bed. Don't try to make me feel guilty by playing the cripple card." I finished off my cigarette and tossed it on the sidewalk. I was barefoot and did not bother to stomp it out.

"Isabella, just sit down, please." There was a pleading in his voice that I rarely heard. As I turned to face him, his grip on my arm loosened. The look of pain and desperation that was in his eyes the night before had returned and I knew that he knew he had me. I sunk back down on the steps, becoming very aware that my bare feet were getting cold, but I didn't care. I dug the pack of cigarettes out of my pocket again, searching for a third cigarette.

He reached over and covered my hand with his hand. "Smoking causes cancer," he said quietly, with a touch of sarcasm.

"If you have something to say to me Greg say it. Don't waste my time trying to be cutesy with me," I snapped at him, moving my hand from his, but putting the cigarette pack back into my pocket. Instead, I opted for downing what remained of my beer.

He picked up his cane and began fiddling with it, twirling it between his fingers. "Fine, you want me to bare my soul to you?" He paused, waiting to see if I would respond, but I just stared at him, so he continued. "I allowed my infarction to drive one woman out of my life and I will not allow it to drive you away."

I softened a little, but kept the hardness in my voice because I did not want him to think I had forgiven him so quickly. "You think she left you because of your leg?" I asked, knowing full well the answer.

"The guilt of crippling me was too much for her," he answered me, tapping his cane on the floor.

"That is not completely true and you know that. She left you because after your infarction you didn't let her in. You cut her off emotionally and I am sure she couldn't take it anymore."

He leaned in close to me. "What is your point?" he asked, his voice dripping with venom.

I leaned in even closer, so our noses almost touched. "You are a brilliant man, Dr. House. Figure it out." I stood up and said, "Now I am going inside before I get frostbite," pointing to my toes.

I walked up the steps to our front door and this time he did not stop me, instead, I heard him grunt as he stood up and followed me back into the apartment. I walked quickly and quietly down the hall to my bedroom and Greg followed me. Magically, we did not wake our sleeping guests as we entered our bedroom.

I threw my overcoat on the floor and climbed under the comforter of the bed, turning my back to Greg. He walked over to my side of the bed and stood right in front of me, forcing me to look at him. "Are you saying that I am doing to you what I did to Stacy?" he asked gesturing towards himself then to me as he leaned on his cane.

"Of course I am," I said, barely looking up at him, trying to hide the fact that I was on the verge of tears.

He sat down on the bed, tossing his cane on the floor. "Isabella, after I came home from the hospital, every conversation with Stacy was about my leg and, honestly, I don't need to be reminded that I am a cripple every moment of every day, the constant pain is enough of a reminder. So I started ignoring her. I deflect your questions because I don't want to talk about it everyday. Bella, I don't want our lives to be about my leg. I don't want what happened with Stacy to happen with you. You mean too much to me, so much more than Stacy ever did. I'm trying to protect us, trying to ensure I don't fuck this up by being my usual asshole self."

I glanced up at him, allowing him to see the tears in my eyes. "But Greg, I need to know what is going on."

He softened when he saw my tears. "Why? Bella, you are not my doctor, so there is no reason you need to know all the little details. The fact is infarctions hurt and mine is going to continue to hurt for the rest of my life. Some days I am going to have unbearable pain, other days the pain will be more manageable, but I cannot continue to give you updates on it every five minutes."

He searched my face with his eyes, trying to tell if he had broken me down. I wiped a tear away and scooted over a little in the bed to give him more room. He laid down next to me and threw his arm around me, pulling me towards his body.

"I promise you, if there is a major change, or if I feel that something is not right, you will be the first person I tell, but other than that, please don't bring it up. I will start ignoring you and you'll just end up hating me."

I smiled a little at his last comment, even though I knew he was completely serious. I kissed him softly on the neck. "Okay." I settled into his arms and he began lightly stroking my back. "I won't ask anymore," I told him.


	8. Feelin' Alright

**AN: Sorry about not posting sooner. I am having a little trouble getting the next couple of chapters just right. I am trying to give Isabella's back story because it is important for the rest of my story, but I am trying to figure out how to do it in an interesting way without ignoring House and all the other characters. Thanks to all of you who are reading and reviewing! I greatly appreciate it!**

**Chapter Eight: Feelin' Alright**

**Friday Evening**

It was finally Friday, the night of the dinner party, and I was not looking forward to the evening. Rebecca had been babbling on and on all week about how this was going to be a great start to the Christmas festivities. I mostly just nodded my head and went along with her, hoping to get it over with as soon as possible. I was not the biggest socializer and that went double for socializing with my family. Greg had not been easy to convince to participate in the evening's events and this was the tenth conversation we had had about it since I told him about it four days earlier.

"Greg, you know I don't like to do this, but if you are late for this dinner, I will not have sex with you for a month." I cradled my cell phone between my shoulder and cheek as I chopped up the carrots. My sister looked up from the potatoes she was mashing to shoot me a disgusted look.

"Well then let me just tell my patient that she needs to hurry up and kick that nasty oxygen habit of hers so I can make my dinner plans." Greg sounded annoyed.

I tossed the carrots into the mixing bowl along with the lettuce and grabbed a handful of chives and started chopping. "Now you are just being ridiculous. Isn't this what you have a team for?"

"Yes, but one of them has a get out of work free card courtesy of my lovely wife."

"You don't need four people monitoring one patient. Let Chase and Cameron watch your patient while you come home for dinner. After you spend an hour and half, minimum, you can go back to the hospital and kill your patient, or whatever it is you are doing there that is so important."

"And then we can have sex? You're not going to throw in a civility clause at the last minute?"

"As long as you are physically here, eating, that is good enough for me. Trying to make you behave in front of guests is like trying to control the weather."

"Okay, now don't forget that."

I dropped my knife and grabbed a beer from the fridge, meeting my sister's disapproving glare by sticking out my tongue. "Fine, but you will drag your crippled ass home no later than 7. Are we clear?"

"Why is this so important to you?" Greg asked.

Looking over at my sister, who had involved herself very deeply in her mashed potatoes, I walked out of the kitchen to talk to Greg privately. "Because I am having a dinner party and I would like my husband to be present."

"No, that's not it. There's something more to it. Something you're ashamed to admit," he stated, prodding and prying in his famous Greg House manner.

"It can't just be that I enjoy your company?" I asked, not really believing it myself.

"No," he responded simply.

"Are you going to be home by 7 or not?" I changed the subject.

Greg let out a deep sigh and then said, "Yeah, fine, I will be there."

I hung up my phone and took a long swig of my beer. I walked back into the kitchen and said to my sister, "Sorry, sometimes it's just hard for him to get away from the hospital."

My sister put aside the potatoes to focus on the pot roast we were trying to make for dinner. "So, do you two have sex _every_ night?" my sister asked, emphasizing the word every.

I had to stop myself from laughing. I knew this was just her way of bonding with me, but she sounded ridiculous. "We definitely try to at least once a day, yeah. What about you and Callum?"

She looked visibly uncomfortable and focused intently on the marinade for the pot roast.

"Come one, Becca, Callum and Beth aren't even here right now, just tell me," I said, reminding her that Callum and Beth had run out to the store to buy some desserts. "This is what sisters are supposed to do." I gave her a little smile.

She giggled at me, "Bella, you crack me up. Well, we actually haven't had much sex since Bridget was born. You know I am not a very sexual person and neither is Callum. It works for us."

"Ha, guys may tell you they are not very sexual, but believe me they are." I chopped the remaining vegetables for the salad and threw them in the bowl.

Rebecca stared at the marinade for the pot roast and said, "Well, how do you make yourself have sex with him so often?"

I smiled a little, "Becca, I don't. I love having sex with him."

"I used to love sex, but since Bridget was born I just don't feel it anymore."

"Don't worry, it will come back. Just give it time." I patted her shoulder in reassurance.

"Thanks, Bella." She looked down at me and smiled. I gave her a hug.

"Oh, my God, Becca, do you realize what just happened? I think we just had a moment," I said in an overly serious tone.

She just laughed at me. "You are crazy."

"I know. Hey do you want a beer?" I asked, pulling open the fridge to get myself another one.

"Bella, you know I don't drink." My sister put the pot roast in the oven. I sat down on the bar stool by the kitchen island.

"I know, but I just wanted to make sure anyway. So, now how long for it to be done?"

She sat down across from me, "Um, the roast should be ready in about two hours."

"Great, so that will be around 7:30. Perfect!" I pointed my beer at my sister. "Cheers," I said.

"So, Bella, since we had our moment, I want to ask you something."

"Um, okay." I was dreading what she was going to ask.

"Truth time, okay? I know you like to joke, but you've never told me how you really feel. Do you and Greg ever want to have kids?" she spoke quietly and carefully, expecting me to have a fit at any moment.

I paused, trying to find the phrasing that would offend her the least. "Probably not," I finally said.

She looked over at me, giving me a small smile. "Well, you should. You would make a fantastic mother."

******************************************************************************************************************************

"Shit," I muttered to myself as I heard the doorbell ring. "Can someone get the front door? I am naked!!!" I yelled into the living room. I heard a muffled agreement and then voices as someone opened my front door. I ran around my bedroom searching for the outfit I wanted to wear, trying not to wake my sleeping niece. Rebecca had put Bridget to sleep in my room for the dinner party. It had taken me forever to set the curls just right in my hair, which was partly due to the fact that after my sister and I had finished preparing dinner, I had one too many beers and I was feeling pretty tipsy. I finally found the little black cocktail dress I wanted to wear. It was a hot little halter-top that hit me right above the knees and accentuated all of Greg's favorite parts of me. I slipped on a pair of Chanel pumps and made sure my make up looked perfect.

As I exited my bedroom, I saw James and Meredith standing in the foyer talking to my sister and brother-in-law. "James, Meredith, I see you have met my sister and her husband?" I walked over to James and he kissed me on the cheek. Meredith gave me a huge hug.

"Yes, we did and their daughter, Beth," Meredith said.

"Well, come on in, we don't have to stand in the doorway. Can I get you guys anything to drink?" I said, checking my watch.

There were various affirmations around the room. Meredith and Rebecca wanted a glass of water, Beth asked for a soda, and Callum asked for a beer.

"I will help you with that, Isabella," James offered.

I smiled at him as we walked into the kitchen. "James, I'm surprised you didn't drag Greg here with you."

He laughed at me. "He refused to get in the car with Meredith. Something about separating his personal and professional lives."

"Oh my God, what a jackass." I shook my head at him grabbing the beer from the fridge. "So how are you and Meredith doing with the whole pregnancy thing?"

James broke into a huge smile. "You know, Isabella, things have never been better. I am so excited."

Before I could respond, I heard the front door slam open. "My God, why are there so many people in my house?"

I rolled my eyes at James and he just shook his head at me. I grabbed the beer, soda and a wine glass, while James grabbed the glasses of water and a beer for himself. I walked into the living room and saw Greg standing in the doorway, taking off his overcoat. He threw his backpack into the corner and shoved his hand into his pocket, grabbing a Vicodin.

"I see you are taking advantage of the absence of a civility clause," I said, as I handed the beer and soda to Callum and Beth.

"I find it amusing you thought I wouldn't." He tossed the pill in his mouth and walked over to the leather chair in the living room.

"How was your day at work, Gregy?" Rebecca asked. I walked over to the chair Greg was sitting in and sat on the arm, taking a drink of my glass of wine. He casually draped his arm over my leg. Callum, Rebecca, James and Meredith took seats on our couch. Beth came over by the chair Greg and I were sitting in and sat down on the floor.

"Well, Becky," he put an extra sarcastic emphasis on her name, "my patient died."

James looked over at Greg. "The patient you thought had leukemia? What happened?"

"I am so sorry, Greg!" Rebecca chimed in.

"Oh, don't bother Rebecca, he doesn't care as long as he figured out why," Meredith stated.

"Cardiac arrest," he tossed at James. "Why do I have to be nice to her if she is not going to be nice to me?" Greg asked me.

"Because you probably deserve it. She doesn't," I said, giving him a kiss on his forehead.

Suddenly a knock at the door disturbed the tension. "I'll get it," I said, handing Greg my glass of wine.

I jumped off the chair and ran to the front door, opening it.

"Bella!" my male equivalent yelled to me. Patrick was my double in all respects. He is as short and as painfully skinny as I am, with the same fiery red hair, which earned him the annoying nickname of leprechaun in high school. Giving me a huge hug, Patrick whispered in my ear, "How's it going with our favorite sister?"

"You did not come quick enough," I whispered back.

Patrick looked quite stylish in his black slacks and blue dress shirt. He looked every inch the CEO of a Fortune 500 company that he was. Standing next to him in the doorway was his wife, Madeline. She towered over Patrick, a point I liked to tease him about, and had gorgeous raven hair.

I immediately reached over to her and said, "Madeline, it's so good to see you." I opened the door wider and let them in. "Come in, come in!"

I walked back over to where Greg was sitting and noticed he had finished off my wine. Greg watched the events with great interest. His eyes followed Rebecca as she warmly greeted Patrick and Madeline, talking a mile a minute. He then shifted his gaze to Callum shaking hands and giving kisses to his in-laws. Greg then turned to watch as Beth uncomfortably gave her uncle and aunt a hug. It was like he couldn't comprehend the scene of a happy family gathering, like he was seeing something he didn't believe existed.

I leaned down and whispered in Greg's ear, "Don't believe everything you see. They are not that happy and carefree."

"Good, I was beginning to think you had been pretending to be damaged just to be with me." He gave me a smile.

I sat back on the arm of the chair saying, "Patrick, Madeline, these are our friends, James and Meredith. James, Meredith, my brother Patrick and his wife Madeline."

The two couples shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. I was about to offer to freshen everyone's drinks, when there was a final knock at the door. It was Lisa.

"Isabella, sorry I'm late," she said, apologetically.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it, come in," I held the door open for her.

Lisa quickly walked in, greeted everyone and began catching up. As my family, Lisa, James and Meredith talked and shared pleasant conversation, I made an excuse about needing to check on dinner and went to hide in the kitchen. I pulled out a couple of bottles of wine to have with the dinner, refilled my glass, and then took a seat on one of the bar stools.

"Hey," Greg said, walking into the kitchen.

"Hi, I was just getting ready to serve dinner," I said, jumping up from the chair.

He walked closer to me, closing the space between us. "No, you weren't. You're hiding."

I gave him a small smile. "Oh yeah? And what are you doing in here?"

"Hiding," he leaned down and gave me light peck on the cheek.

"How do you do it?" I asked, plopping back down in the chair.

He pulled a couple of pills from his pocket and said, "Do what?"

"Distance yourself from your family?"

"Wow, I don't think anyone has ever envied my strained relationship with my family," he said, scratching at his stubbled chin. "Bella, I don't care if I have their approval or not. You still care."

"How can you not care? They're family."

"The definition of family is a group of people sharing common ancestry, not a group of people caring about each other," he said.

I looked down at my hands, suddenly finding them extremely interesting. "You just turn it off? It's that easy?"

He let out a sigh and said, "No, but it should be."

Rebecca burst into the kitchen, interrupting us. "Everyone's seated at the table. Are we ready to serve the salads?"

I looked up at Greg and held his gaze for a few seconds, finding strength in our common struggle. "Yeah," I muttered to my sister. "Greg, can you take the bottle of wine to the table?" I asked, handing him the bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

Greg nodded as he headed out to the table. My sister and I quickly followed with the salad. I took my place between Greg and my brother and began passing around the salad. As everyone settled into the salads, the small talk ensued. James asked Patrick about his company, Lisa talked to Rebecca about her home in London, Callum chatted with Madeline about her teaching position at a private school in Baltimore, and Meredith seemed to flit back and forth between different conversations. Beth was silent, playing with her food. She was extremely shy and didn't quite know how to engage in adult conversation yet. Greg reached under the table and placed a hand on my knee, trying in his small way, to show his support for me. I looked over at him and gave him a warm smile, silently thanking him.

"You two are so cute together," Rebecca interrupted our silent conversation.

"You say that like you're surprised or something," I said.

"It's not that I'm surprised, it's just nice to see you together, rather than only having what you choose to tell me about your relationship," Rebecca commented.

"Well, in that case, do we get a trophy?" Greg said sarcastically in between bites of his salad.

"That would be hilarious. Gregory House and Isabella Gallagher: Cutest Couple in all of Princeton-Plainsboro," James added, trying to ease the tense atmosphere.

"What would your trophy say? James Wilson: Most Divorces in Princeton-Plainsboro?" Greg shot back. James responded by just rolling his eyes.

Lisa began laughing and turned to Rebecca, saying, "Tell them what you were voted in high school."

Rebecca turned bright red and said, "Lisa, no. Not in front of Beth."

Perking up at the mention of her name, Beth said, "No tell us!" A smile began forming on her lips.

"She was voted most likely to break hearts," Patrick spilled the beans, a look of great accomplishment on his face. Beth looked disappointed it wasn't something more lewd.

"Oh how can that be true, love? You are a doll," Callum said, smiling.

"Maybe cause she is an unwavering shrew," Greg whispered to me.

Giggling, I playfully shoved his arm. "Patrick was voted most likely to find a pot of gold," I shared.

Patrick turned bright red and said, "It's because I'm short and have red hair."

"No need to explain, Patty. We all know you're a leprechaun," Greg said.

That drew great laughs from the table. The tension of earlier seemed to be abiding and I was starting to relax again. It could have been from the many, many alcoholic beverages I had been consuming in anticipation of a crappy evening, but it didn't really matter.

I turned to Meredith and said, "I bet you didn't think that you would be getting all my juicy family secrets along with your meal tonight."

Laughing, Meredith said, "It is the true definition of an added bonus."

"Are we ready for the main course?" Rebecca asked. When she got nods of affirmation, she walked into the kitchen and came out with the pot roast.

After the roast was served, Patrick spoke up. "Bella, I thought for sure Becca would have made you deck this place out in Christmas decorations," Patrick said innocently and then turned to James and Meredith. "You should have seen our house growing up. Becca would light it up and decorate it like something out of _National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation_."

Beth looked up from her plate and said, "She still does it. She decorated our house this Christmas even though we wouldn't be there."

The table laughed a little, which made Beth smile. Meredith said, "I bet that is something to see."

Rebecca pleased with the attention on her decorating skills said, "Oh it is. I tried to do it here, but Bella wouldn't let me."

"Rebecca, don't make me sound so sinister. I just told you that Greg and I don't really do Christmas and that we don't have any decorations," I told the group, exasperatedly.

"Don't take it personally, Becky. House doesn't like anything cheerful," Lisa said, matter of factly.

"It's not the cheerfulness, it's the hypocrisy of the season," Greg answered.

"House, do you really think this is the best place to share your jaded view of humanity?" James asked, trying, as always, to protect Greg from himself.

"Well that's Greg's reason. What's yours, Isabella?" Madeline asked, intrigued.

Lisa quickly spoke up, "Oh, it's the same. Ever since they got involved they have melded into some kind of super human force of cynicism, misanthropy and pessimism."

"What is this? Gang up on Isabella night?" I asked, a little too angrily.

Greg gave me a little kiss on the cheek. "They're just jealous of our love," he said, in a mocking tone.

"If you're not big on Christmas, what do you do on Christmas instead of celebrating?" Callum asked.

Greg shoved a piece of meat into his mouth and said, off handedly, "We usually go to Atlantic City for three good days of gambling, drinking, and wild sex."

There was a loud clatter as Rebecca dropped her utensils. "You have sex on Christ's birthday?"

"Hey, they're Jewish. That's gotta be worse," Greg said, pointing to James and Lisa with his knife.

"No, we're the bad guys on Easter. We didn't do anything on Christmas," James said.

"Whatever." Greg took a drink from his wine glass, smirking at James.

"Christmas is the only time of the year Greg can consistently get off, so we use it as a little get away. It has nothing to do with the holiday, it just kind of works out that way," I explained.

The table fell into an uncomfortable silence. I looked across the table at James, pleading with him to help out the conversation before my sister could find out any more information that would disappoint her.

Sensing my distress signals, James said, "So, Beth, Isabella tells me that you are thinking about becoming a doctor?" James tried to focus the attention on non-controversial things.

Beth looked up from her mashed potatoes at me then at James. "Yeah."

"Have you thought about where you would like to go to school?" Meredith asked, trying to help move the conversation along. I flashed her a smile, silently thanking her.

"I have applied to Princeton, Columbia, and Cambridge, but I don't have any answers yet," Beth answered, clearly uncomfortable with the conversation.

Callum interjected, "We are hoping she goes to Princeton or Cambridge. Cambridge is nice and close to us but if she must go to school so far from us, we would love for her to be close to Greg and Isabella."

"You know, Rebecca and Callum just had another baby," I stepped in, taking the conversation off Beth.

"Really? How old?" Meredith asked.

"She is almost a year old. Her name is Bridget. She's already asleep for the night, otherwise I would be showing her off like crazy." Rebecca was always very excitable when it came to talking about her daughter. "Meredith, do you and James have any kids?"

"Actually, I am pregnant with our first child," Meredith shared.

There were rounds of congratulations as the table heard James and Meredith's good news. Greg just sat there smirking, drinking more wine.

"Now that you are going to have a baby, you really need to try to convince my sister that her and Greg should have babies!" my sister giggled.

Greg shot her an annoyed look and I just gulped down my wine.

******************************************************************************************************************************

"They are finally gone!" Greg exclaimed as he plopped down on the bed.

I giggled as I shimmied out of my cocktail dress, reveling my black satin bra and panties. "I know right? What a ridiculously long night. What is the deal with people and wanting to get together to have meaningless conversations?"

Greg shrugged his shoulders and said, "They think it will make them happy."

"Well, whatever, we are definitely not doing that again for a very long time." I slightly slurred my words as I spoke.

Greg propped his head up with one hand and placed the other on his chest. He had already changed into his tee shirt and flannel pajama pants. "Are you drunk, Miss Gallagher?"

I began to laugh uncontrollably as I stumbled over to his side of the bed. "Can you blame me, Dr. House? That was the worst dinner ever, filled with too many awkward conversations." I climbed on top of him, straddling him.

"Oh goody. I love drunk Bella," he teased me.

"Aren't you drunk?" I asked, staring intently at him, trying to figure out if he was or not. Greg had always been able to hold his liquor better than me, but he had been pounding the wine all night.

He closed one eye in thought and then said, "Um, I am definitely stoned, but I don't think I am drunk."

"Whatever. We can still have the most fun ever, even if you can't figure out if you are drunk or not." I laid down on his chest and absentmindedly played with the stubble on his chin.

He laughed at me. "The most fun ever? How old are you, 12?"

"No, silly, I am 31 and you are 40." I gave him a playful poke in the ribs.

"Ah, always so literal when drunk." He lightly stroked my back, feeling every inch of my bare body. His touch brought shivers to my spine. "Can I ask you something, or are you too drunk to come up with coherent thoughts?"

"Well, all we can do is see." I giggled at myself, thinking I had just made a hilarious joke.

He smiled at me, amused. "Why is your sister so insistent that we have a baby?"

"Oh, God, I don't know. But she is kinda psycho about it, isn't she? She asked me earlier today if I was going to have kids. I think she thinks that I am shirking my womanly duties by not bringing children into the world." I suddenly sat straight up and looked at him with a very serious face. "You are never going to believe what she told me."

He let his hands rest on my hips, slowly tracing circles with his thumbs on my inner thighs, getting closer and closer to my panty line. "Oh this is going to be good."

"Oh, God, Greg, that is amazing." I locked eyes with his and said, "I want you inside me now."

He looked a little surprised. "I knew you couldn't resist my touch," he had a devilish smile on his face. "But first you have to tell me what your sister said."

"Her and Callum are not having sex and she envies us, you know the fact that we do it all the time. She actually said that Callum is not a very sexual person."

"Ha, guys may say they are not very sexual, but they always are," Greg chuckled.

"Oh my God, that is exactly what I said! How cool is that?"

"Very cool," he answered me.

I rolled over on the bed, lying on my back, and spread my legs wide for him. "Now, come over here and fuck my brains out."

His eyes flashed wild with desire as he climbed on top of me. "With pleasure."


	9. My Journey to the Sky

**AN: Thank you all for reviewing and reading! It is awesome. Oh and I don't own House and all that. :)**

**Chapter Nine: My Journey to the Sky**

**Christmas Eve**

After almost two weeks of my sister and her family sleeping in my living room, I had had enough. They were finally leaving in two days and it could not happen soon enough for me or for Greg. Greg and I hadn't had sex since the somewhat strained dinner party a week ago, which was partly because the extra people in the house put unnecessary strain on our relationship and partly because Greg had been working irregular hours at the hospital. He was working a lot right now, but I didn't know if he actually had numerous time consuming patients or if he was just avoiding being at home. I guessed he was just avoiding being home, but whatever the reason, neither of us were happy about the situation. My sister of course was completely oblivious to any tension she was causing.

That afternoon, Rebecca and Callum went out to take care of some last minute Christmas shopping, so I took Bridget and Beth out to lunch at a sandwich shop a block from my house.

"So how do you like Princeton?" I asked Beth as we began eating our sandwiches.

"I like it. It reminds me of London without all the rain," she answered me, taking a big bite from her turkey sandwich.

"Well, I want you to know that if you decide to come to school out here, you can stop by to visit Greg and I anytime."

"Thanks, Aunt Bella. I really like it here and I think it might be time for me to branch out a bit. But we'll see if I even get in."

Bridget giggled as I gave her a spoonful of her baby food. "I loved having you visit, Beth. I hope we are able to see each more often."

"I liked visiting you too and I love Greg. He is so cool. You guys are way cooler than my parents," she said, shoving some potato chips into her mouth.

"I thought you got along with your parents," I said, curious.

"I do, but ever since Bridget came along, they have been weird. I don't even get why they had to have another baby so much longer after I was born. She gets all the attention. Suddenly because I have already taken my first steps nothing I accomplish is ever worthy of their attention," Beth told me, disgusted.

"I'm sorry, Beth. I know how hard it is to feel as if no one cares about what you do." I reached over to her and gave her hand a quick squeeze.

"You do?" She looked over at me.

"After my parents died, I was all alone. I didn't have any aunts or uncles or really close friends, my brother moved to a different state and my sister moved to a different country without me. I was pretty much alone, even when I was in relationships, until I met Greg. He was the first person in my life, since I lost my parents, that I didn't feel lonely with."

Beth giggled a little at me. "Wow, you two are like total soul mates or something."

I rolled my eyes at her with a smile on my face. "I don't know about that, but yeah, we are a good fit." I put down the baby food I was feeding to Bridget and reached into my giant handbag. "Beth, I want to give you your Christmas present now. It's from Greg and I, well, it is really from me but I made Greg pay for it," I said, smiling at her.

I slid a wrapped box over the table to her. She tore through the paper and as she revealed the gift within her eyes grew wide. "Oh my God, Aunt Bella. But, I already have a cell phone."

"I know, but this phone is specifically for you to call me. Now you can call me whenever you want, whenever you need someone to talk to. Beth, I don't want you to feel alone. I am here."

Beth jumped out of her chair and tackled me, giving me the biggest hug. "Thank you so much, Aunt Bella. I am going to call you all the time."

"Good, I hope you do. And don't forget, you can call anytime, even at three in the morning."

"I will. Thank you."

******************************************************************************************************************************

"So will you and Greg be coming to Mass with us in the morning?" Rebecca asked me. They had just returned from shopping and she had come into my bedroom to wrap presents in private.

I snorted under my breath, "Mass? We don't go to church." I took a drink from my beer.

Rebecca put down the scissors she was using and assumed her lecturing older sister posture, staring me down with her hands on her hips. "Well I know you don't go every week anymore and didn't get married in the church, but don't you go for the big holidays?"

"No, we don't go to church, Becca, for any occasion."

"Since when? Is this another thing Greg made you give up?" she asked, concern in her voice.

I laughed at her. "Greg has not made me give anything up. I haven't been since Mom and Dad died, Becca. I haven't been inside a church since their funeral." I glanced over at her. My parents had been uber-religious and it had worn off on Rebecca. She was a Catholic through and through and it actually surprised me she didn't have more kids.

"But Bella, when we have a profound loss that is the moment we need our faith the most. You can't turn your back on God because one bad thing happened to you." Rebecca moved over to the bed to sit next to me.

"Rebecca, I didn't turn my back on God. I just don't believe anymore." I shrugged my shoulders at her. Then, with a harsher tone, I said, "And Becca, it wasn't just one bad thing, it has been one bad thing after another since Mom and Dad died and that cycle of continuous shit coming my way only stopped two years ago when I met Greg. But of course you wouldn't know about any of that because you never care enough to ask." I hopped off my bed and walked towards the door. "I need a stronger drink."

I walked into the kitchen to search for the last of the scotch. I heard footsteps following me even before I heard Rebecca's voice. "Isabella this is exactly your problem. You are so overdramatic and whenever it gets tough you run right to a bottle of booze. What has happened to you that is so bad?"

I drank straight from the bottle before I answered. "Rebecca, don't pretend that you care now. Where were you two years after Mom and Dad died and I had to go off to college all by myself, all alone? Where were you when my college boyfriend physically abused me? Where were you when the man I had lived with for seven years, the man I moved across the country for, not only cheated on me but had a child with another woman? Oh that's right you were in a whole different country, selfishly doing your selfish Rebecca things."

Rebecca stared at me slack jawed. "Isabella, those are awful things to have happen to you, but don't you see? God gave you Greg to ease your pain. It's important to keep your faith even through the tough times."

I rolled my eyes at her, "God gave me Greg? Believe me, Rebecca, being with Greg is no gift. I love him more than anything in this world, but I can guarantee you that God would want nothing to do with us. I have lost my faith. I lost it the day Mom and Dad died and it is not coming back."

"Isabella, you might think you have lost your faith, but God will always be with you."

"That is complete bullshit. How could you believe that and still leave your eighteen years old siblings to fend for themselves while you gallivanted around in a different country, never to come home again? Patrick and I needed parents, Rebecca, and when our own parents were taken from us, it was your job to step up and fill the void, but you didn't and every single mistake I have made in my life from that point has all stemmed from the fact that I did not have the guidance and care of a supportive family."

Rebecca looked down at the ground. I knew I had hurt her. After all these years, all the emotions I had felt about her were coming out. I just couldn't continue to listen to her talk about God and faith when I had no reason to believe anymore.

She finally looked back at me and said, "Bella, I think you should come to Mass with us tomorrow. It is time for you to return to the Church. All this anger and resentment you feel towards God is normal, but the best place to sort through these feelings is the Church."

"I am not going to Mass. I am not going back to church and I think you need to just let it go if you want to continue to have a relationship with me," I told her, my tone venomous.

For the first time since we had gone into the kitchen, I noticed Greg standing right outside the doorway to the kitchen. He must have come home from work to find us fighting. He was watching my sister and I intently, while Callum and Beth watched with a mixture of apprehension and disbelief. I walked right past him and grabbing my coat, I walked out the front door. I hopped down the front steps and began walking in the direction of the hospital and the Princeton campus.

"Isabella!" I heard Greg's voice behind me. I turned around to face him, tears streaming down my face. He reached out to me, placing a hand on my waist. "Bella," he continued quietly, "I heard everything."

"She is the only person in my life that has always been able to make me feel bad about myself. My entire adult life has basically been spent trying to please her, and all I ever do is disappoint her. She makes me feel like I am a bad person," I told him, in between sobs.

"You are not a bad person." He pulled me closer to him, wrapping me in his arms.

"You know when I told her we got married the first thing she said to me was 'not in the eyes of God.' She didn't congratulate me. She didn't ask about you. She just told me that since we weren't married in the church we were still living in sin." I cried into his chest, moistening the tee shirt he was wearing.

"I had no idea your sister was so religious."

"Yeah, well my parents were. We used to go to church every Sunday and we had all gone to Catholic schools. It stuck with my sister, it didn't with me." My tears slowed down as the anger towards my sister built back up.

He loosened his grip on me and touched my chin, pushing it upwards, forcing me to look at him. "Why didn't you tell me about your ex?" There was hurt in his eyes, almost as if he was wounded by the fact he didn't know everything about me.

"I don't know." I felt the tears welling up again. "It happened so long ago."

"Did you want to talk about it?"

"I don't think so. Look, Greg, what you are trying to do is sweet, but I promise, I have dealt with it. I don't need to discuss it anymore."

He nodded his head. "Do you want to go for a walk?"

I gave him a small smile, "Not really. It's starting to snow."

"Want to go to the OTB parlor?" he asked, a glint in his eyes.

A grin spread quickly over my face as I answered, "Definitely."

"Alright, you wait here," he said, backing away from me slightly. "I'll go get the car keys, tell your annoying family not to wait up and then we can go."

As he turned and walked back to our apartment, I called out to him, "Greg?" When he turned to face me, I said, "Thank you." He nodded his head at me and walked up our steps.

******************************************************************************************************************************

"I can't believe we won a thousand bucks," I said, sitting down at a table at a little hot dog stand a block from the OTB parlor.

Plopping down next to me, Greg said, "We lost $700."

I pulled the hot dogs and sodas off the tray and gave Greg one of each. "It sounds better to say we won a thousand. Leave all the other stuff out." I took a bite of my hot dog before saying, "Thanks, Greg, for tonight."

"If you really wanted to thank me, you would have been a better good luck charm," he teased, tossing a pill in his mouth.

"I still can't believe I yelled at my sister like that."

Greg took a bite of his hot dog, looking intently at me, thinking. Then, he said, "Why not? You yell at your employees all the time. You yell at the opposing consul all the time. Shit, you yell at me almost daily."

"Yeah, but it's different with my sister. It just always has been," I told him, almost mumbling.

"Do you want to know why? Your sister has taken the place of your mother in your whole parental authority figure schema. Your mother died before you hit your rebellious years so you only had your sister to rebel against, but because she was your maternal figure you have been afraid to stand up to her all these years. You have been stunted in your maturation because you have been desperately seeking the approval of your stand in mother."

"Why is that you get so pissed when people try to psychoanalyze you but you are so quick to psychoanalyze others?" I asked, a slight smile on my face.

He took a drink from his soda. "Well, Isabella, you see, I'm emotionally stunted. I can only dish it out I can never take it," he said, jokingly.

"So what do I do now?"

"You act like every other adult in the world. Pretend it never happened, grit your teeth through the rest of her visit and then avoid her for the next six years."

I glanced sideways at him. "That's your advice? Lie? That is so unlike you."

Greg gave me an intense stare. "I don't care what you do. I just want my tough, no nonsense, bitch of a wife back. All this uncertainty and hand wringing is nauseating. You are not yourself around her and I can't wait for it to end."

I looked down at my hands, embarrassed at the way I had been acting. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. No one is themselves around their family." He shoved the rest of his hot dog in his mouth and then said, "Want to go back home and have sex?"

"Yeah, I do, really badly," I flashed him a smile. As we stood up and started walking back to the car, I grabbed Greg's arm, turning him to face me. "I love you, Greg."

"I know. I love you too," he said, a soft smile on his face.


	10. What a Wonderful World

**AN: Thank you, thank you, thank you, everyone for reading! And a special thanks to those of you who are reviewing, you can't even imagine how much it inspires me and motivates me. Thanks for sticking with the story. I just felt it was crucial to my story to give insight into Bella's family life. Now back to focusing on House and Bella. Oh and fair warning…this chapter includes my first attempt at some smut.**

**Chapter Ten: What A Wonderful World**

**A Week Later**

"So when did your sister leave?" Meredith asked me over one of our weekly lunch slash chat fests.

"About a week ago. God, you should have seen Greg the minute I got home from dropping them off at the hospital. I don't think I have ever seen him so happy. He wanted to have sex in the freaking kitchen," I told her, crunching on some salad.

Meredith laughed at me. "God, I wish Jimmy would be half that passionate with me, but you know, who would want to be with some fat pregnant woman," she told me, letting her neurotic side come out.

"Oh God, Meredith. First of all, you are not fat. Second of all, you're what, three months pregnant? Are you going to be like this for the rest of your nine months? Cause if you are, I need to start drinking at our little lunches." I picked out a crouton from my salad, popping it in my mouth.

Meredith gave me a little smile, "Thanks, Bella. And I'll try to keep my neurosis to a minimum." She took a long drink from her water. "So did anything else happen with your sister after the whole Christmas debacle?"

I looked away from her for a minute, thinking about what to say. Even though Meredith was my closest friend after Greg, I still kept a lot from her and I didn't know how much I wanted to share, especially considering she worked for Greg and I knew he wouldn't be happy if she knew too much about our personal lives.

"We made up more or less. She apologized to me, but it was one of those fake apologies. She told me she was sorry I was upset by what she said, not that she was sorry she had said it. It was complete bullshit. The saddest thing about this whole thing is that I know our relationship will never be the same and she acts as though nothing has changed."

"I'm sorry, Bella."

I shrugged my shoulders at her. "It's okay. We were never that close anyway. She has always been too busy telling me how to live my life to ever connect with me as a sister."

"My sister is like that. She thinks that just because she is two years older than me she has the right to comment on my life. But, unlike your sister, mine doesn't make me feel like shit while she is doing it," Meredith said, taking a bite of her turkey sandwich. "But what does she have to complain about with your life? You are a successful attorney married to a world-renowned doctor. What more does she want from you?"

I rubbed my forehead in frustration, remembering the fury my sister caused within me. "Financial and professional success mean nothing to her. Plus she doesn't like Greg."

Meredith smirked a little, saying, "Well you can't get rid of all the people in your life that don't like him. I mean it is House we are talking about here."

I chuckled lightly to myself. "I know. I know. But at least with you, you can accept the fact that we love each other and that he makes me happy, regardless of what you think of him as a person. But my sister and even Lisa can't get past his faults and just assume that I have made a huge mistake by having him in my life. You know that is the reason Lisa and I aren't as close anymore. She couldn't stop telling me how much she disapproves of my relationship with him."

"House is insane, but you two work together. Who is anyone to say whom anybody else should be with?"

"Thank you!" I exclaimed at her, causing her to jump a little. "My sister just doesn't get that."

Meredith leaned back in her chair, finishing off her sandwich. "Well it's not your sister's call what you do with your life. How did your brother take the news of your little fight?"

I took a drink from my Coke before answering her. "He just shrugged and said that I shouldn't get too worked up over it, because that is just the kind of person she is and always will be."

"God, how annoying," Meredith said, resting her hand on her slightly protruding belly.

"That's what I thought. Needless to say, I am taking an extended vacation from my entire family." I shoved the last of my salad in my mouth. "But, enough about my dysfunction. How are you doing? How's the pregnancy going?"

"Actually, it has been a little weird. I have wanted a baby my entire life but now that it is finally happening I am scared shitless and I don't really know if I can really do it."

"Meredith, there is no shame in being scared."

"I know. That's what Jimmy tells me." Meredith gave me a weak smile.

"Listen to him. He is right." I reached over and touched her arm.

"It's just hard you know, doing this by myself. None of my friends are pregnant or already have kids so there is no one I can really talk to who has been through this already. It's just not the same talking to Jimmy or my OB."

"Well if I was a better friend I would get pregnant just so you would have someone to talk to, but I am not that kind of friend." I smiled broadly at her.

Suddenly, Meredith's phone began ringing. As she pulled it out of her purse, she said to me, "God you are so much like your husband. Anyone who says you are not perfect for each other has never met the two of you." I stuck my tongue out her. "Sawyer," she answered her phone.

I knew it must be the hospital so I tried to get the waiter's attention to bring our check as I listened to her conversation.

"No, I told you I was going to lunch with your wife while we waited for test results," she paused, listening to Greg. "Well you don't have to get all bent out of shape about it. I am two minutes from the hospital and I will be there before you can even limp from Pathology to your office."

I laughed at her. The only reason Greg borderline tolerated her outside of the hospital was because she was the only Fellow who would even dare talk to him like that. He needed that around him. Cameron was too in love with him and Chase was too busy kissing his ass.

Meredith hung up her phone. "I'm sorry. My pain in the ass boss is having a conniption fit because I am out of the hospital. I should get going."

I chuckled slightly, "Of course. Duty calls, right?"

******************************************************************************************************************************

As I walked home from lunch, I thought about the things Meredith had said about babies and pregnancy and I wondered if I was missing out on an essential womanly experience. Every woman I knew, Lisa, Meredith and Rebecca, spoke endlessly of a longing for children. And yet I didn't feel the call. Was I less of a woman because I didn't want a child of my own? Would I feel differently if I were actually faced with the possibility of having a child? I don't know.

I quickly walked up the steps to my townhouse and went into my home. Even though I knew Greg was at work, I was a little disappointed not to find him sitting at his piano playing mash ups of Bach and battle hymns or sitting on the couch watching a monster truck rally. Greg had been at work for almost the entire week, only coming home to sleep for a few hours and get new clothes. I missed him. I missed his scent, his presence in the house and I even missed the constant rattle of his pill bottle. When we were both working, it was different, because even if he had a difficult case, we would see each other around the halls and usually catch lunch together. Since I was off, I didn't even get that.

I plopped down on the couch and turned on the television. I had been absolutely exhausted all day and I just wanted to relax for a little bit. I turned on the television, flipping around until I found something good. I finally settled on reruns of _CSI: Miami_ and curled up in the blanket thrown across the couch.

******************************************************************************************************************************

"Bella. Bella." I heard my name being called, quietly at first, and then more insistent the longer I went without answering. I slowly opened my eyes to see Greg leaning over me, one hand on the back of the couch the other slightly rubbing my arm. The minute he saw me looking at him, he stopped calling out my name. "Why are you sleeping on the couch?"

I bolted up, looking around me. "I must have fallen asleep. What time is it?"

Greg sat down on the couch, leaned his cane up against the coffee table and looked at his watch. "Almost 11:30."

"11:30? Oh my God, I have been asleep since 4 in the afternoon."

Greg rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and muttered, "Lucky you. This patient refuses to get better or just die. And believe me, at this point, I am really okay with either outcome. At least if he dies, I can just do an autopsy and find out what killed him."

I leaned over and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged his shoulders. "How was your lunch?"

I snuggled up to him. "Are you fishing for information about James or about Meredith?"

He laughed lightly. "Whatever you got, I'll take." He draped his arm over the back of the couch and began playing with my hair.

"I can't tell you the things she tells me. She tells them to me in confidence. Besides you're her boss, it's weird for her." He gave me a look that plainly said 'oh come on, that hasn't stopped you before.' I giggled at him. "Wouldn't it be weird if I was like that?"

"Yes it would. Please don't turn into that kind of person."

"Well, there was nothing too juicy at lunch today. Meredith doesn't feel like she will be a good mother AND her and James are not having sex, at least not as much as they did before the pregnancy." Even though I had slept forever that day, I was starting to feel drowsy again.

"Interesting. No wonder she is so pissy with me lately. She's not getting any and she knows that I am so she is taking her aggression out on me. I wish Wilson would just man up and fuck his wife."

I laughed out loud at him and let out a loud yawn.

Greg got up from the couch. "I'm going to try to get some sleep. Are you going to come to bed or have you found the couch a suitable replacement?"

I playfully rolled my eyes at him. "I'm coming to bed."

"Good."

We walked down the hall to our bedroom and I climbed into bed, wearing my sweats. Greg followed me into bed, pulling me into him, so our noses were practically touching.

"At what point in our relationship did you stop wearing sexy lingerie to bed?" he whispered to me.

"I am not going to wear sexy lingerie when it is snowing and twenty degrees outside."

"I can keep you warm," he said, putting a hand under my sweatshirt and resting it on the small of my back.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and whispered, "Your hands are cold."

"I'm sorry," he smiled, giving me a kiss. He pulled me even closer to him, dropping a hand down to my ass, firmly keeping me in place. He placed a tiny kiss on my cheek.

I moved my hands from the back of his head to his cheeks. "Greg, I am exhausted. We can't have sex tonight."

"Come on. You don't have to do anything. You can just lay there," he told me, a giant smile on his face.

"You're a pig," I told him, lightly pushing on his chest.

"I can't help it. It's my gender." He leaned into me, giving me a light kiss. I tried to resist at first, but then I succumbed to his kiss, pushing my tongue against his lips, asking for entry.

I lightly pushed him onto his back, rolling on top of him. His hands caressed the curves of my body underneath my clothes as our kisses became more frantic. My hands moved down to his waist, slipping into his flannel pajama pants. His kisses were sensuous, alternating between lightly biting my bottom lip and aggressively attacking my tongue with his. As my hand grasped his growing erection, he took in a sharp breath.

"I thought you were too tired," he managed to get out.

"I'm not anymore," I whispered back, stroking his dick between our bodies. As I played with him, I felt myself becoming more and more aroused feeling him writhe in pleasure underneath me. His hands slipped into my underwear, holding onto my ass.

"Fuck, Bella, you're amazing," he breathed.

I smiled lightly as he began kissing my neck. I pulled my hand off his erection, sitting up and straddling him, as I pulled my sweatshirt off. His hands immediately went to my breasts. Sitting up, he moved a hand to my back and his mouth grabbed onto my breasts, licking and lightly biting my nipples. I let out a low gasp as his actions brought more pain than it usually did.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling his head away from my chest.

"Yeah, I want to feel you inside me right now," I told him forcefully, climbing off him to rip off my pants. I ran my fingers across his waistband, tugging on his pants. Wriggling out of them, he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me back on top of him.

I straddled him, my legs squeezing up against his. I hovered above his erection, barely touching him, and swayed my hips back and forth so the tip of his dick lightly grazed my entrance. He grabbed onto my hips, steadying me, and lightly guided me down on top of him. As his girth filled me, I let out a deep moan. I leaned down to him, hungrily kissing him. His hands moved up and down my back, guiding me into a steady rhythm. As I continued rocking on his hips, we simultaneously climaxed. Slowing down, I disentangled from him, and laid down on top of him, feeling his heart beat slow back to normal.

"Wow," he whispered into the darkness, lightly running his fingers up and down my back.

I planted a soft kiss on his lips and said, "Yeah," trying to catch my breath.

He wrapped me in his arms. "I'm so glad your relatives are gone, Isabella."

"Me too," I said, playing with his chest hair.

I looked up at him and watched as his eyelids drooped. "Good night," he mumbled, his voice already groggy with sleep.

"Good night, Greg," I mumbled back, falling asleep in his embrace.


	11. You Can't Always Get What You Want

**AN: So sorry this took so long! I was sequestered with my family over the Thanksgiving holiday and they would not leave me alone. Ugg. Any who, I don't own House or any of the wonderful characters on David Shore's amazing show**_**, House, MD**_**. Finally, thank you thank you thank for all of you wonderful reviewers! You are awesome!**

"_**You can't always get what you want**_

_**But if you try sometimes you just might find**_

_**You just might find**_

_**You get what you need**_

_**Ah yeah."**_

_**- Mick Jagger**_

**Chapter Eleven: You Can't Always Get What You Want**

**The Next Day**

"Here are the case files you asked for. I went ahead and ordered them chronologically for you and then highlighted the procedures that are being contested." Will handed me the files.

Today was my first day back since my rather long vacation and I was happy to be here, although I did have work piling up all over my desk. It felt good to finally have everything back to normal. My sister and her family were long gone and Greg and I finally had our apartment back. I was very excited to plunge back into work.

"Wow, Will, it's only 10 am. I can't believe you finished this already." Will gave me a little smile, as if to say, 'of course it's finished.'

"No problem. Now is there anything else I can get you?"

"I think I am fine for now. Thanks, Will."

As Will left my office, I began looking over the files. I had a meeting with Medicare later in the week to discuss the billing practices of the hospital's free clinic. I started making notes on some talking points when I heard my office door being shoved open. Without looking up, I knew who it was.

"Got any time for a little afternoon delight?" Greg asked, plopping down in the chair across from me.

"It's still morning," I answered, without looking up. I was incredibly busy and I did not have time for the Greg House show.

He leaned his head down, trying to get into my eye line. "What are you doing?"

I looked up at him, "I am preparing for a case. What are you doing?" I knew he was just trying to spend time with me, in his own self absorbed way. Last night was the first night we had spent together all week because of his difficult case.

He stared right at me, piercing me with those gorgeous eyes of his. "I miss you," he said simply.

"Oh God," I muttered as I felt an intense wave of nausea rise up within me. I quickly grabbed the trashcan at my feet and wretched into it. Greg sat up straighter in his chair, trying to see me. I sat up, pushing the trashcan towards the wall, and leaned back in my chair.

Greg leaned over the table and put a hand on my forehead. "Most guys would take offense that their wife throws up at hearing him say I miss you." I smiled weakly at him as he touched my cheek and neck. "You don't feel feverish, just sweaty and gross. Have you been feeling sick today?"

"No, just right now, I felt this intense need to vomit. But I have been fine all morning." I kept my eyes closed, but could hear him get out of his chair and walk over to my side of the desk. He sat on my desk and began feeling my glands.

"Glands seem fine. What have you eaten today?" he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a stethoscope. He placed it on my chest and listened for a few seconds.

"Nothing, yet. I did have a Coke this morning, but that was it."

He pulled the trashcan towards him with his cane and looked inside. "Gross."

"Greg, I am fine. Stop looking at my vomit, it's weird."

He stared intently at me with that 'I am going to figure out this puzzle' face of his. "Bella, people don't vomit for no reason. Let me run some tests."

I looked up at him. "No, you are not going to run tests on me after throwing up once. That is ridiculous."

We both turned towards the door as Will knocked once and then opened the door. "Ms. Gallagher, just a reminder that your meeting with Dr. Cuddy is in five minutes."

"You make him call you Ms. Gallagher?" Greg teased me.

I just ignored him. "Thanks, Will. I'm on my way." Will nodded his head and closed the door behind him. I stood up and grabbed the cream colored blazer, that matched the skirt I was wearing, off my chair and slipped it on. "I have to go do my job now," I said to Greg.

He pulled a stick of gum from his pocket and handed it to me. "Promise me you will page me the minute any new symptoms come up."

I shoved the gum in my mouth and smiled at him. "I promise. Now go do your job. We really can't afford to be a single income household, not with the way I spend money."

He playfully rolled his eyes at me and said, "Fine, if you insist."

As I made my way down to Lisa's office, I had to stop in the bathroom to vomit again. 'Oh, please don't let me get sick,' I thought as I opened the door to her office.

"Isabella, welcome back. How is your first day going?" Lisa greeted me, as I took a seat across from her at her desk.

"It's great. I have just been catching up on paperwork. What about you, how are things going today?"

Lisa looked at me with a face that said, 'don't get me started.' "I have already had to deal with House complaining about clinic duty and incompetent ER doctors."

I giggled at her, not envying her position as Greg's boss. "Well, I'm sorry." I pulled a couple of file folders from my briefcase and placed them in front of me. "So, I'm gone for a few weeks and suddenly your doctors can't keep up with their paperwork?" I joked.

Lisa rolled her eyes at me. "How bad is it?"

"Not that bad. Drs. Nolo, Stein, and Liebowitz all have yet to renew their credentials. They have a week to do that. I have already assigned that to Paulson and he should be done by lunch. Woods is prepping Dr. Wolfe for his disciplinary hearing, which is scheduled for tomorrow. Finally, I have some questions about billing practices in the clinic to prepare for my meeting with Medicare."

Lisa nodded, looking through the files I had passed over to her. "Alright, shoot."

"Okay, first – " I was cut off by the need to vomit yet again. I dove for the trashcan sitting next to the desk.

Lisa got up from her seat and walked over to me. "Isabella, are you okay?" She gently rubbed my back as I continued to lean over the trashcan.

"I don't know. I have already vomited like four times in the past thirty minutes." I sat up in the chair, allowing the nausea to pass.

"Four times in thirty minutes? I am paging House." Lisa reached for her desk phone.

"Lisa, it is probably just a hangover. I do not need an infectious disease or nephrology specialist." I rubbed my forehead.

"Maybe not, but you do need your husband. I have already paged him." Lisa hung up the phone. I smiled weakly at her as she put a hand on my shoulder. "Let's go find an empty exam room in the clinic. At the very least, he can get you some compazine and maybe a banana bag."

"Fine," I said, walking into the clinic with Lisa holding onto my elbow.

"Brenda, which room is empty?" Lisa inquired.

Nurse Brenda looked at the patient log and said, "Exam room two is open."

"Great, when he gets here, please tell Dr. House he has a patient in exam room two."

I laid down on the patient table feeling the nausea getting more intense. "I feel sick again," I muttered, as I reached for the little pink basin sitting on the counter.

Lisa handed me a hair tie. "Here, so you don't get your hair messy."

"How dare you page me to the clinic when it is not my clinic hours." Greg entered the exam room oblivious I was the patient, keeping his head down as he tried to get a pill from his pocket.

"House, relax, it's Isabella." As Lisa spoke, Greg's head shot up and he stared at me. "Now, that you are here, I will leave her in your care."

Nodding at Lisa, Greg hooked the tiny doctor's chair with his cane, pulling it towards him. He sat down on it and then scooted over to where I was lying. "You're pale. How many more times have you vomited?"

"I think five maybe six times," I answered him as he placed the back of his hand on my forehead. He looked quizzically at me. "Greg, I am fine. I'm sure it is just a hangover."

"That would be some trick, considering you didn't drink anything last night," he said sarcastically. "Do you have any other symptoms? Anything at all that is different?"

I closed my eyes and thought for a minute. "Um, I have been just exhausted all week, you know taking naps in the middle of the day and stuff, but I assumed it was just my body recovering from my ridiculous family."

Greg looked up at the ceiling and muttered under his breath, "Damn," then louder, "Have you had to pee more often? Fun bags extra sensitive?"

I met his gaze, "Um, I'm not really sure about having to pee more, but now that you mention it my boobs do seem more sore this week and it did kind of hurt when you were playing with them last night. Oh God, I gotta puke again." I leaned over the table, preparing to vomit. "No, false alarm," I muttered. Greg limped over to the cabinet and grabbed a syringe, tourniquet and vial. "What are you doing?" I asked.

"I need your blood." He gently grabbed my arm and tied it off with the tourniquet, his demeanor becoming more and more serious.

"Why? Greg, tell me what you are thinking." He was starting to unnerve me.

"You're pregnant," he said matter of factly.

My eyes got huge. "WHAT?" I did not believe what I was hearing. "That is impossible."

Greg took the vial of blood and slipped it into his jacket pocket. "Come on, Bella, it is not impossible and you know that." He did not look at me.

"But, how? I am on the pill."

"The pill is only 99.9% effective. Apparently your egg was extra determined this month. I'll find you when I have confirmation. Oh and eat some crackers for the nausea." Greg hobbled out of the room, dealing with me as if I was just any other clinic patient.

I fell back on the table with a huge sigh, not feeling strong enough to stop him. There were a million thoughts going through my head. What am I going to do if I am pregnant? What is Greg going to do? Can we raise a child? How on earth does a doctor get his wife pregnant accidentally? Should I keep the baby? I didn't know what to do. I slowly got up from the table and left the exam room. I made my way to the elevator, just wanting to get to my office and hide in there. When I got to my office, I was relieved to see that Will was not there. I sat down at my desk and tried to get some work down while I waited for the test results.

I was able to distract myself enough until lunch that I actually got some work done. I was feeling better, so I decided to try to eat something. When I got to the cafeteria, I spotted Greg and James sitting at one of the far tables. James was looking over a file and Greg was rubbing his forehead with his fist, the way he always does when he is having a serious conversation. I decided to venture over to their table.

I walked up behind Greg and placing my hands on his shoulders, leaned down to give him a peck on the cheek. "Hey," I said softly in his ear.

Greg, startled, looked up at me. "Feeling better?"

James quickly closed the file and passed it across the table to Greg, who then shoved it under his plate. "Hi, Isabella. I was just leaving," he abruptly stood up and walked out of the cafeteria.

I sat down in James's empty seat. "I haven't thrown up in three hours. What's up with James?"

Greg slowly and deliberately bounced his cane on the ground, not meeting my eyes. "Your blood work is back."

I reached out and grabbed onto his cane. "Greg, look at me." He met my gaze. "Whatever the tests say, we are going to be okay." I hoped I sounded stronger than I felt.

Greg took the file from under his plate and passed it to me. "Your hormone levels are a little high, but nothing to be worried about yet."

I just stared at the file, reading the word positive over and over. I could feel Greg's gaze on me. I knew he was waiting for a reaction, a response, anything, but I could barely breathe. No matter what I said to Greg, I did not believe that we would be okay or that we could even handle it. I felt tears welling up in my eyes, which just made me angrier. I looked up at Greg.

"Now this, I did not expect," he commented when he saw my watery eyes.

I was about to speak, when Greg quickly closed the file over my hand. "We have a problem," Dr. Chase had run up to our table, out of breath.

Greg jerked his thumb at me and said, "I'm busy." I quickly looked away from Chase, not wanting him to see my tears.

"Isabella, are you okay?" Chase asked me.

"She's fine," Greg answered for me. "I thought you had a problem."

Chase looked from me to Greg and then slowly answered, "Our patient just had a stroke."

Greg stared at me, searching my eyes for anything. Without breaking eye contact with me, he said to Chase, "I'm right behind you." Greg stood up and placed a hand on my shoulder, "Bella, I'm sorry."

I wiped my eyes with a napkin, "Don't be sorry, I understand. You have to go."

He leaned down until he was inches from my face, "That's not what I'm sorry about. I promise to get away as soon as I can." He gave me a quick kiss and then walked away.

******************************************************************************************************************************

I left that afternoon without telling Greg. I told Lisa I was still feeling nauseous and that I would work from home. When I got home, I immediately changed and plopped down in front of my television. I was sitting on the couch, wearing sweatpants and a Georgetown University hooded sweatshirt, eating an entire chocolate cake, watching reruns of _Grey's Anatomy_ when Greg finally came home at 8:30 that night. I didn't say anything as he made his way over to the couch. Sitting down he leaned his cane up against the coffee table and physically lifted his right leg up on the table with both hands, then flung his left leg over it.

"You know you don't have to gain all your pregnancy weight within the first day. You can pace yourself." He grabbed the fork I was bringing up to my mouth and redirected it to his own mouth. "That patient has a pheochromocytoma, not a brain infection," Greg said pointing to the television.

"Thanks, Dr. McDreamy. What would I do without you here to point out the inaccuracies of my favorite medical dramas?"

"McDreamy? I would have thought, for sure, I was McSteamy." I chuckled at him as he grabbed another bite of cake. "You didn't tell me you were leaving early."

"Since when do we update each other with every move we make?" I asked, a little too defensively.

"I was looking for you," he said, turning to look at me. "I wanted to talk to you." I put the cake down on the coffee table and turned off the television. "Hey, I wanted to see if I was right about the pheo."

"It's a repeat. Your diagnosis is right." I rolled my eyes at him. He couldn't even resist a fictional puzzle. "So what did you want to talk about?" He grinned at me, as if he was saying, 'you got to be kidding.' "Okay, you're right, I won't joke. Do you want to talk about how your day was or the baby?"

"I want to talk about you," he said, sincerely.

I smiled at him and thought to myself, 'This is why I love him.' When the shit hits the fan, he was able to be the man I needed him to be. "Okay."

He tugged gently on my knees, "Come over here. I would come to you, but," he pointed at his leg, with a little smirk. I snuggled up to him, fitting right in the nook of his arm and he wrapped his arm around my body, resting his hand on my thigh. I put my head on his chest, waiting to see if he would talk first.

After what seemed like an eternity, I decided to break the silence. "So, how the fuck did this happen?"

My head bounced a little on his chest as he chuckled at me. He put his finger to his lips, pretending to think, "Oh, I know this one. When a man and a woman love each other very much or – "

I playfully slapped his chest. "I know how babies are made, Greg. I was asking how did this happen to us."

His hand moved under my sweatshirt and I felt it on my bare skin. He absently stroked my stomach as he thought. "Statistically, you had a .1% chance of getting pregnant. It's not huge, but there is a chance."

"I knew I should have made you wear condoms every time we did it," I joked.

"Bella, don't be ridiculous. The only reason guys get married is so they can have sex without condoms."

"Oh, so the truth comes out." I placed a hand on his leg. "So, how do you feel about this?"

"How do you feel about this?" he asked back.

"I don't know," I answered quietly.

"Do you want a child?"

I thought for a minute. In all the endless conversations I had had with my sister about having a baby, I always thought I knew the answer to that question. But now that it was actually happening to me, I felt something I had never felt before. Maybe it was the hormones, maybe it was the maternal instinct finally kicking, but for the first time in my life, the idea of having a baby actually felt as if it was just what we needed, even though it scared the shit out of me. Still, I needed to try to stay objective. "I don't know. We couldn't even handle my family in this house for two weeks. Will we be able to handle it when there is someone else living here that we actually need to take care of?"

His hand stopped moving on my stomach. "A baby wouldn't be just another roommate, it would be our child."

I leaned back a little in his arms so I could look at him. "Are you saying you want this baby?"

He met my gaze. "I am merely pointing out the flaw in your excuse."

I giggled slightly at him as I settled back onto his chest. This was classic Greg House, avoiding giving his own opinion because he found it uninteresting. "And I am asking you, do you want this baby?"

"Isabella," he said, gently, "this is your decision. I will raise this baby with you or I will help you terminate, but it needs to be your decision."

"How sweet of you," I muttered sarcastically.

Greg rubbed his forehead and said, exasperated, "Look, I am not kidding myself. I know that chances are I will be a horrible father. I am an obsessive, self-involved ass incapable of change, not to mention all the things I will probably never be able to do with my child because of my leg. The reality is, I am not the kind of guy women dream of having children with. And you know that deep down you agree with me, otherwise you wouldn't even be considering terminating this pregnancy."

I fiddled with my wedding ring, not sure how to answer. I knew he was right. Because of his leg, he wouldn't be able to do things like play sports with the kid, give the kid piggy back rides, carry the kid from point A to point B, or run after an unruly child. But his doubt about his ability to be a father? Well, I shared those doubts about myself.

I rubbed his leg, feeling the outline of his scar. "Your leg and your doubts about what you will and will not be able to do is something we can handle and work through together. It is not even something I was taking into consideration." I paused and began fiddling with my ring again. "I am hesitating because chances are I will be a horrible mother. I am materialistic, I am narcissistic, I work too much, and I love being the center of attention. Last time I checked, those are not great qualities for a mother."

Greg's hand moved from my stomach to my head and he began running his hand through my hair. "Well, aren't we just the perfect candidates for parenthood. We have absolutely no faith in our abilities." I giggled at him. "Isabella, you might not be a conventional mother, but you would be a great mother."

I immediately looked up at him, grabbed his face in my hands, and kissed him deeply. "Do you really think so?"

"Absolutely. I mean, come on, you have been taking care of me for the entirety of our relationship and I know for a fact that an infant will only be half as needy as I am." He smiled at me.

"What do you want to do?"

He stroked his chin with the hand not currently in my hair. "Like I said before, this is your decision. I will support you either way."

"I need to know what you think in order to make an informed decision." His refusal to give me any kind of opinion was starting to annoy me.

He puffed his checks and thought for a minute. "I would not be upset if you kept the baby," he said carefully.

"Oh my God, you want this baby!" I said, with a little smile.

He had a sheepish smile, almost as if he was embarrassed by his feelings. "That is not what I said."

"I think I want this baby, too," I said quietly.

He tenderly kissed me on the lips. "I still have my doubts."

"I know. I do too." I snuggled in closer, resting my head on his chest. "Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to tell anyone yet," I said softly.

He hesitated, "Well, I can promise not to tell anyone else."

I smiled, in spite of myself. "You told James already, didn't you?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I showed him your blood work."

"Whatever happened to doctor – patient confidentiality?"

"I needed a consult. That is allowed," he joked and then more seriously, "He won't tell anyone."

"You know what this means, don't you? We are becoming a family," I said into his chest.

"Yeah, I guess we are."

"I don't want to turn into my family," I told him quietly.

He kissed me on the forehead. "I don't want to turn into my family."

"I love you, Greg."

"I love you, too, Bella."

We sat there in silence for a few more minutes. Greg was stroking my hair as I rubbed his leg. I felt my eyes closing and knew it was time for bed. I stood up, but he continued holding on to my waist. "I have to go to bed," I explained.

He tugged on my waist, causing me to fall back in his lap. "Do you feel good about this?" he asked in a rare moment of tender concern.

"I will. It's just going to take some time. Do you feel good about this?" I asked, adjusting myself in his lap, so I wasn't on his right leg at all.

"I will. It's just going to take massive amounts of Vicodin." He flashed me a soft smile and relinquished his hold on my waist.

"Are you coming to bed?" I asked, standing up.

"I'll be in in a minute," he answered, reaching for the remote.

I knew he would not be in in a minute and that he probably wouldn't be in until he could be sure I was asleep. Today we had had more emotional, relationshipy conversations than we usually did in an entire year and I knew he needed time by himself to process.

"Good night, Greg," I called out as I walked down the hall to our room.

"Good night, Bella."


	12. In the Deep

**AN: I don't own any of the **_**House**_** characters. This chapter now enters into the time frame of the series, albeit in a very AU kind of way and I am taking great liberties with the timeline. This chapter jumps right in at the episode "The Socratic Method." The contents of the episode are only fleetingly mentioned, but later chapters will heavily depend on the events of later season one episodes. Thank you to all you wonderful reviewers. You're the best!**

"_**Thought you had all the answers**_

_**To rest your heart upon**_

_**But something happens**_

_**Don't see it coming, now  
You can't stop yourself"**_

_**- Bird York**_

**Chapter Twelve: In the Deep**

**The Next Day**

I was able to get through my shower, put on my make up and do my hair before the nausea hit me. 'This is not going to be fun,' I thought to myself as I hugged the toilet, pulling my long hair out of my face. The bathroom door slowly opened and I looked up to see Greg, barely awake and without his cane, looking down at me.

"Here." He held out a glass of water and some Saltine crackers. "These should help with the morning sickness."

I took them from him and smiled feebly. "Thanks. Where's your cane?"

He pointed towards the kitchen with his head. "Couldn't carry all three at the same time."

I leaned back against the bathtub and ate a cracker. "I'm sorry I woke you."

He just shrugged at me, leaning up against the doorframe. "I'll nap at work."

I ate another cracker as I stood up, feeling the nausea leave for the time being. As I leaned on the counter top, checking to see if I needed to do any touch ups to my make up, Greg turned on the water to the shower.

"If you can wait twenty minutes, I'll drive with you to the hospital," Greg told me, taking off his shirt.

I tried to think of a witty remark to tease him about going to work so early, but vomiting for fifteen minutes had taken all my energy. Instead, I just said. "Okay."

While I waited for Greg to get ready, I got dressed in my gorgeous Louis Vuitton wool blazer and skirt and Chanel stiletto knee-high boots. If I had to face the world as a newly pregnant woman, I was going to look unbelievable. I made my way into the living room, stuffing various files into my briefcase. I felt the nausea coming back, but I nipped it in the bud by snacking on another cracker. I glanced at my watch, noticing that is was 7:30, when I heard Greg's shuffled gait coming down the hall.

He walked over to the couch and grabbed his cane. He had quickly dressed in jeans, a black graphic tee, a red button down dress shirt and a black blazer. I loved the way he looked in that red shirt. As he turned to face me, a muted "Wow" escaped his lips. "Morning sickness agrees with you. You look hot."

"Thanks." I smiled at him as I reached up and ran my hands through his hair. "I can look the other way when it comes to your wrinkled shirts, but my God, Greg, can you at least run a comb through your hair? Especially since you are going to be seen with all of this." I gestured to myself to punctuate my point.

He rolled his eyes at me. "God, woman, the next thing I know you are going to tell me to shave more than twice a month."

"Well now that you mention it, it would be nice if you shaved soon. You are getting too prickly," I told him while rubbing his chin.

"Fine," he said exasperatedly. "But the minute you are too fat to shave your legs, I am going to stop shaving my face." Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

******************************************************************************************************************************

"If you keep eating the crackers, it should settle your stomach. Page me if you need anything. Oh, and I'll call you later today when I have time to do a pre-natal exam," Greg lectured me as we walked into the hospital lobby.

I side stepped in front of him and placed my hand on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. "Greg, you are not an OB-GYN."

He looked at me incredulously. "You don't think I can handle a simple pre-natal exam? I am deeply, deeply hurt."

"Of course not. Stop being so dramatic. It's just, well, are you going to deliver this baby?"

He made a shocked face. "God, no. If I do, chances are I will never have sex with you again."

"Well then don't you think we should find a doctor who will actually deliver the baby?"

His face softened a little. "Isabella, you have a stressful job and you are at an age where pregnancy can get risky. The early symptoms of serious complications are easy to miss." He leaned down close so our noses were almost touching, piercing me with his eyes. "I don't trust anyone else to pick up on those little things." He moved his mouth closer to my ear, brushing my cheek with his stubbled one. "I don't trust anyone else to take care of you. We can get an OB when it is closer to the due date."

He stayed with his face pressed against mine for a moment, until I kissed him lightly on the cheek. He straightened up, noticing for the first time that people in the lobby were glancing in our direction. I touched him lightly on his arm. "Okay, call me when you have time." I began walking towards the elevator and noticed he wasn't following. "Aren't you coming?"

He started walking towards the hospital waiting room. "Nah, I think I will hang out down here, you know, spend time with the common folk."

"Hiding from your team?" I asked.

"The longer I hide from them, the longer I can avoid dealing with boring sick people."

"This hospital is lucky to have you," I shouted to him, sarcastically, as I stepped onto the elevator.

He shook his head, watching me as the elevator doors closed, a smirk on his face. As I rode up to the fourth floor and my office, my thoughts wandered to Greg. I couldn't believe how well he was taking the pregnancy news. I had assumed he would brood and avoid me for weeks as he tried to sort through the emotional minefield of becoming a father, but he was actually being supportive. I knew I shouldn't be surprised. Greg has never shown me anything but complete devotion in our time together, but this was huge. Will interrupted my thoughts as I walked into my office.

"Ms. Gallagher, good morning," he said, standing up.

Quickly pushing all thoughts of pregnancy and Greg out of my mind, I said, "Morning, Will. Any messages for me?" I asked as I walked into my office, putting down my briefcase and turning on my computer.

He followed me in with a notepad and pen. "Nope, not this morning. I updated your schedule for today. Is there anything else I can do?"

I sat down at my desk. "Not right now. Thanks, Will."

"No problem."

As Will left the room, I took a look at my schedule. My day was busy, but not unmanageable. I didn't have any meetings so far, but I did have paperwork I needed to finish. As I pulled the files out of my briefcase and got to work, I realized I was already exhausted. "Awesome," I muttered sarcastically to myself. After staying focused and working for almost four hours, Will beeped in on the intercom.

"Ms. Gallagher, Dr. House is on the line," Will told me.

"Thanks, Will," I said, picking up the phone. "Hey, Greg."

"Since when does your mecretary pick up your phone?" he asked me.

"Since always. I am an extremely busy woman. I can't be expected to pick up my own phone," I joked.

"Do you have time for an exam now?"

"Sure."

"I'm already down in the clinic, hiding from a mom who wants me to scare her daughter off sugar."

I laughed at him. "I'll be down in a minute." I hung up the phone and telling Will I would be back in a few, I made my way downstairs to the clinic.

After a quick glance at the patient log, I noticed that Greg had signed into exam room four, the furthest one from Lisa's office. When I walked in, I saw him lying on the exam table playing his Game Boy.

He barely looked up when I entered the room. "Hey," he greeted me without taking his eyes of his game.

"Hey," I said, leaning up against a cabinet. My stomach was still feeling uneasy, but I couldn't tell if it was the pregnancy or the fact I had yet to eat anything more substantial than crackers.

His Game Boy made a noise and he let out a frustrated grunt. As he slipped the Game Boy into one of his jacket pockets, he pulled out his pills from the other and tossed them in his mouth. "Are you ready to begin the magical journey to motherhood?" he asked in a sarcastically sweet tone.

"Not if you are going to talk like that the whole time," I teased him. Smiling, he hopped off the table and started rummaging around in the cabinets opposite me. "What have you been doing all morning?"

Turning to face me with a syringe in his hand, Greg said, "Talking to a patient."

I looked at him with surprise on my face. "You talk to a patient? Is she a stripper? Cause that is just about the only reason I can imagine you actually wanting to be in the same room as a patient," I teased.

He flashed me his sad puppy dog eyes, "Your words hurt." He began setting up the equipment he had pulled from the cabinet on a tray next to the stainless steel stool. "She's schizophrenic."

"Oh, that explains it."

"I have already had this conversation with Wilson," he told me, a little frustrated. Then, softening, he asked, "Are you feeling any better from this morning?"

I hopped up on the table, "Um, not really. I haven't thrown up since I got to work, but I haven't eaten anything either."

Greg sat down on the stool and rolled over to the table, dragging the tray with him. "You should try to eat something. After we do this, do you want to grab some lunch?"

"Depends on how long this will take." It was sweet that he was being so thoughtful. Not that Greg never showed concern or care for me, but I had never been his patient and the way he was taking care of me was nice, even though I knew he didn't treat any other patient this way.

He nodded as he pulled a pen out from his inside jacket pocket and began writing some things down on the blank chart he had pulled from one of the drawers of the tray. "Okay, first I'm going to take a history, then we will draw some more blood, then I gotta do a pelvic and finally an ultrasound. Sound good?"

I looked at him shocked. "Um, no. Greg, you are not doing a pelvic."

"Why not? I am a doctor, you know. Plus, I have seen your vagina before. What's the problem?" he asked, surprised.

"The problem is, it weirds me out. I am not going to let you swab and poke around down there." I folded my arms across my chest.

"You are being ridiculous," he stood up and grabbed a blood pressure cuff and stethoscope from one of the cabinets.

"I don't care," I told him, defiantly. Greg gently grabbed my arm and put the blood pressure cuff over my upper arm. "You have to get someone else."

He put the stethoscope in his ears and began taking my blood pressure. "Fine. Now, be quiet, I'm trying to do something here," he jokingly chastised me. I sat quietly as he listened to my heart and took my blood pressure, staring at his watch. "Sounds good," he mumbled as he wrote some numbers down in the chart.

He tossed the stethoscope and blood pressure cuff into the open cabinet and turned back to me. "Alright, now for the boring medical history stuff. Date of your last period?" he sighed deeply.

"Um, November 30, I think."

"Sounds about right," he mumbled.

"What? You keep track of my periods?" I asked a little incredulously, although I knew I shouldn't be surprised that he noticed that kind of stuff.

"Not exactly, I just know it's been about five weeks since you last enforced your monthly booty embargo." I rolled my eyes at him, but he just gave me a small smile. Making a note in the chart, he said, "So that means you are about five weeks pregnant. Any medical stuff you haven't already told me?"

I smiled at him, "Nope, you know everything."

"No childhood diseases you might have forgotten to mention? Parents both perfectly healthy until they died?"

"Nope and yes."

He nodded at me. "No abortions in your high school days?" he flashed me a devilish smile.

"No, Greg, I have never been pregnant before."

"Good. I need some more blood."

I took off my jacket, revealing my silk camisole and caught Greg staring at my breasts. "Why do you need more blood?"

He shook his head slightly and refocused on my face. "I'm sorry, what was I doing?"

I leaned forward a little, giving him a better view of my breasts. "You needed to take some blood."

He shook his head again. "Right," he said slowly. He picked up the syringe and a couple of vials. He limped over to me, putting the vials on the tray. "You know, the twins are looking especially…bouncy today."

"Really? Want to get a better look?" I smiled at him seductively.

He leaned on the exam table, placing both hands up above my head. I grabbed him by his jacket lapels and pulled him down towards me, kissing him deeply. As I moved my hands to the back of his head, he deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue into my mouth. I moaned against his mouth as he moved one hand from above my head to my thigh. He began sliding his hand underneath my skirt, his kisses getting hungrier, when the door to the exam room flew open.

"House, oh God, I'm sorry," Cameron turned away as she realized what we were doing.

I immediately broke the kiss when Cameron spoke. Greg removed his hand from under my skirt as I smoothed it back down. "What?" he growled at Cameron.

"The nurse said you were in here alone." Cameron's face had turned bright red.

"Obviously I'm not. What do you want?" Greg, asked, his breath still a little ragged.

Cameron looked at me for the first time since coming in the room, then back at Greg. "The patient's son is looking for you," she said, a little sheepishly.

"I'm busy," he snapped at her.

"Fine. He's waiting outside the clinic for you," Cameron said as she walked back out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"Now where were we?" he asked, turning back to look at me suggestively.

I giggled at him, "Sorry, Greg, the moment is over. You have to finish this exam so you can go do your job."

"Aww, I hate Cameron," he said, picking up the syringe again.

"It's not her fault," I said. Greg smiled slightly at me as he filled two vials of blood. "So, why do you need so much blood?"

He began writing my name on the blood vials, "I need to run some more tests. I need to check your hematocrit and Rh factor and I am going to run screens for rubella, cystic fibrosis, sickle cell, Tay Sach's and the hepatitis viruses."

"Oh, my God, that is a lot of scary sounding things." I was feeling nauseas again.

He put a hand on my leg. "Neither of us have any family history of any of these conditions. The chances that any of these tests will come back positive are very, very low. You have nothing to worry about."

"Okay, you promise?"

"I promise," he grabbed the ultrasound machine and pulled it towards him. "Now, let's take a look at this little bugger."

He lifted my shirt, lightly brushing my stomach, sending a slight shiver up my spine. "Oh my God, that is cold," I whined, as he squeezed the gel onto my stomach.

"Don't be a baby," he teased. He began sliding the ultrasound wand over my belly. I watched his face as he looked at the images on the screen. Suddenly, his face fell as he leaned closer to the ultrasound screen. "Oh, God."

"What? Greg, what is the matter?" I asked, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

"I should have known, the high HCG levels, early and excessive morning sickness. How could I miss it?"

"Shit, Greg, what is it?" I couldn't read his expression.

He pushed a button on the ultrasound and froze the image. Pulling it closer to us, he pointed at a little speck. "See this? This is the fetus. And see this?" He pointed to another little speck next to the first one. "That would be another fetus."

I fell back on the table. "Twins? We are having twins?"

"We are having twins," he said, pulling a pill from his pocket.

"This changes everything," I said.

Looking shell shocked, he responded, "Does it?"

"Doesn't it? We were iffy on the one baby and now two? Greg, I don't know if I can do it."

He looked back at the screen. Then, handing me a tissue to wipe off the gel on my belly, he abruptly stood up and said, "I gotta go deal with my patient's kid."

"Greg, just because we don't talk about it, doesn't make it go away," I called after him as he walked out the door. He just kept walking, ignoring me. Frustrated, I cleaned myself up and decided to go talk to James. I had to talk to someone, someone who knew Greg, someone I could trust. I knew I would be able to talk to James without the fear of judgment.

I knocked on the office door labeled _James Wilson, M.D. Department of Oncology_ and opened it, not waiting for a response. When I entered I saw James sitting at his desk.

James looked up at me and greeted me with a warm smile. "Hey, Isabella."

"Hi. Do you have a minute?" I asked, sitting down on his couch.

"Of course, what's up?"

I looked out his window for a minute, trying to think of what to say, when the nausea overtook me. I quickly ran over to the trashcan in the corner and threw up.

James leapt up from the chair and came over to me, lightly rubbing my back. After about fifteen minutes, I finally felt stable enough to crawl over to the couch. James moved some of the pillows so I could lie down there.

"I'm sorry, James." I said weakly.

"Don't worry about it. I'm an oncologist. I have people throwing up in my office daily," he said, handing me a bottle of water.

I closed my eyes. "Meredith tells me she hasn't really had any morning sickness, but come on, she's lying right?" I asked, silently acknowledging the fact that I knew he knew I was pregnant.

"She hasn't really had any," he said, hesitantly, taking a seat at his desk.

I shot him a death glare. "Well then I HATE her."

James chuckled a little at me. "I will pass it along."

I smiled at him. Taking a drink of water, I sat up to face him. "We just found out I'm carrying twins."

With a look of surprise on his face, he said, "Wow, congratulations."

"Well, I don't know. Greg seemed to freak out a little. Honestly, I'm freaking out a little, too." I looked down at my hands in my lap, nervously fiddling with my wedding ring. "James, do you really think Greg can handle being a father?"

James looked at me, picking his words carefully. "House," he paused, "has done things for you that I did not think he was capable of doing."

"Will he resent me for making him become a father?" I couldn't look at James. He was the only person in my life I could actually voice these kinds of concerns to. I knew he wouldn't judge me and that no matter what I said, it would, without a doubt, stay between the two of us.

"Isabella, he does those things because he loves you and he will take on fatherhood because he loves you, not because he feels like he has too. Come on, you've known him how long and you really think he makes life changing decisions just to placate someone?"

I smirked at him, knowing he was right. Greg would never agree to something this big just because I asked him too. He would have to want it too.

James continued, "These babies might have been unexpected, but they won't take down your relationship. You are whom he was always meant to be with. The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way you two interact with each other, I don't know, it's unbelievable. I love Meredith very much and we have a fantastic relationship, but we will never have what you two have. You two have the kind of relationship people dream of having, but very few actually attain. You two are soul mates, in every sense of that phrase."

"You are such a girl, James," I teased him. Then, softer, I said, "Thank you."

He smiled at me, "Anytime."

Suddenly, there was a loud clattering from the balcony as Greg burst into the office through the patio that adjoined their offices. "What are you doing here? He's _my_ best friend," he said to me.

"I thought you had some emergency you just had to get to," I said, my anger at him for abruptly leaving me in the clinic rising.

"I took care of it. Now are you done here or should I just come back later?" he asked, matching my angry tone.

"You're an ass." I turned to face James, "Thanks, James, you really are the best," I said, as I gave him a warm smile. Then turning back to Greg, I said, "Come find me when you're mature enough to have an adult conversation with me." I walked out of the office, leaving Greg to sort out his emotions about the situation without my help.

******************************************************************************************************************************

After leaving James's office, I went back to my own to finish up my paperwork, but I couldn't concentrate. The news that I was having twins was weighing too heavily on my mind. I thought of picking up the phone and calling my sister, but Greg bursting into my office saved me from such an obviously stupid move.

"Us having twins is almost laughable in its absurdity, but that is the current situation," he said immediately after closing the door.

"I am well aware," I told him, leaning back in my chair. "Look, Greg, I am freaking out about this too and you are not helping."

"Are you freaking out in an I-don't-want-to-have-a-baby-anymore kind of way or a twins-are-extremely-overwhelming-right-now kind of way?" he asked, finally sitting down across from me.

I smiled at him, even though I wasn't quite ready to let him off the hook for what he did in the clinic. "A twins-are-extremely-overwhelming-right-now kind of way. What about you? Changing your mind about supporting me whatever we decide?"

"Not yet," he said, a slight smile forming on his lips.

"Wow, what did James say to you?" I teased him.

Pretending to be hurt, he said, "Hey, this is all me. Wilson gets no credit for my emotional maturity."

"You are not emotionally mature." I reached over the desk and grabbed his hand in mine and then said, in a more serious tone. "Greg, I think we are going to be okay."

"Good to know," he said, smiling.


	13. Let's Get it On

**AN: First off, I don't own House or any characters on that show. Secondly, I stole a couple of lines of dialogue from a few episodes, so again I don't own those either. Thirdly, thank you so much to all of you loyal readers! You rock so much I can't even stand it! This episode still takes place during "The Socratic Method." Sorry this took so long to post AND that it isn't very long. More good stuff to come quickly!**

**Chapter Thirteen: Let's Get It On**

"I can't believe you shrank your patient's tumor in order to get her into the surgery," I said, as I drove us home from the hospital later that night.

"Why not? It certainly sounds like something I would do," Greg responded, shoving a pill in his mouth.

I rolled my eyes at him. "It's unethical and it is certainly enough to bring you up on disciplinary action."

"Why do you care so much? The patient lived. Bergin gets to keep his yacht. Everyone is happy."

"As the hospital lawyer it is my job to inform my client that his actions are stupid and as much as I hate having to tell you how to do your job, it is part of mine."

"My actions are stupid? If we didn't temporarily shrink down the tumor, she would have died," he said, in his I-know-I-did-the-right-thing tone.

"Greg, I didn't say I didn't agree with you. I just said that your actions have consequences. Doing the right thing and doing what's right for your job and the hospital do not always coincide," I told him, pulling up in front of our apartment. He mumbled something unintelligible to me as we got out of the car. "You did the right thing today, Greg, but I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't at least tell you that the hospital does not condone what you did today."

"So you are just covering your ass?"

"I'm covering both of our asses."

He nodded at me, seemingly satisfied enough with my response. We walked up the front steps together in silence. Getting to the front door, Greg turned to look at me and said, "Don't you have the keys?"

I shook my head at him. "No, I gave them to you this morning," I said as I watched him pat down his pockets, searching for those elusive keys.

"Shit," Greg cursed under his breath as he fumbled in his pockets for the key.

"Hurry up, I'm freezing, and I'm getting snow on my boots," I whined, as I looked upwards, noticing the quickening pace of the falling snow.

"You are not helping and who wears leather when it's snowing anyway?" Greg pulled a prescription bottle and some loose change from his jeans pocket. "Shit, where did I put them?" He shoved the items back in his pocket and reached inside his overcoat, into his blazer's inner pocket, pulling out a pen and a prescription pad. Frustrated he shoved them back into their home.

I pulled my overcoat tighter around myself and shoved my hands in my pockets. "Ow," I gasped as my hand hit something rough inside the pocket. I slowly pulled the offending item out of my pocket and immediately began giggling when I saw what it was.

"What is so funny?" Greg asked, taking a break from his search to look at me. As he saw me dangling the keys in front of his face, he too began laughing.

"I'm sorry, Greg, I could have sworn I gave them to you." I smiled, embarrassed.

He took the keys from me and quickly unlocked the front door. "It's okay, I mean I almost died from hypothermia trying to find the keys, but I can't expect you to remember a little thing like the fact that you had them. You are growing two lives in there, for Christ's sake," he teased me.

"Please forgive me?" I asked, stepping up on the stairs to be closer to him.

He placed a hand on my waist and gave me a light kiss. "Always," he said, turning slightly to open the door.

That kiss awakened something within me and before he had the chance to open the door, I grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him in for a kiss. It was a hungry kiss, a kiss that told him he was about to get lucky. He placed his hand on my back, supporting me, and I could feel the hard, cold wood of his cane being pressed into my back as he reached behind us, pushing open the door with his other hand. We shuffled into our living room, never breaking the kiss. There was a slam of the door as I kicked it closed behind us. He tossed his cane somewhere and it was followed by a crash and a low thud as the cane and whatever it hit on its flight across the room fell to the floor. The noise didn't even faze us. He had backed me up against our door, trapping me as he eagerly pushed off my jacket while his tongue clashed against mine. Within seconds, he had stripped me of my clothes, save for my bra and panties. His hands seemed to be all over my body, caressing my stomach, my ass, lightly feeling my breasts through the fabric of my bra. I tried to focus on getting his clothes off, but the competing sensations of his fierce kisses with his hands on my body, were proving that task difficult. His hands left my body for a second to help pull his coat and blazer off in one smooth motion. I began unbuttoning his shirt and pushed that off him, revealing his tee shirt and I silently cursed him for wearing so many layers.

Breaking the kiss, to allow me to pull his shirt over his head, he whispered in my ear, "Bedroom."

I silently nodded at him as I unbuttoned his jeans. I gave him a passionate kiss, then headed for the bedroom, walking backwards to watch him. He stepped out of his jeans and limped after me, with a devilish smile on his face. As we entered the bedroom, I walked over to the bed, leaning against it, holding out my hand to him. When he caught up to me, he wrapped his arms around me and began kissing me again. As we tumbled into bed, I managed to whisper, with ragged breath, "I want you to fuck me all night long."

I felt his lips break into a smile against my own lips as he answered, "That could be arranged."

His hands engulfed my breasts, fighting with the fabric of my bra for access. I arched my back up into him and unclasped the offending garment for him. Shoving it aside, his mouth latched onto my right breast, flicking and sucking the nipple until it stood firm and erect for him. Then he switched to my left breast, doing the same as he massaged the other with his hand. I noticed he was being extra gentle, no doubt a result of his knowledge of my pregnancy symptoms already filed away in his Rolodex brain. As his body covered mine, I felt his growing erection pushing on my inner thigh, through the fabric of his boxers. Reaching between us, I grabbed him, lightly feeling the tip of his erection with my fingers.

As my fingers played over his length, feeling every inch of him, he let out a deep guttural moan, only slightly muffled by the fact that his face was buried in my cleavage. Getting a firm grasp on his erection, I began slowly pumping up and down his shaft, building speed as I went. He pulled his head away from my cleavage and leaned his forehead on my shoulder, panting heavily in my ear. The grunts and moans I was eliciting from him were so hot, I felt myself losing control. He placed small kisses along my jaw line and I pulled my hand off of him, wrapping my legs around his waist, silently begging him to enter me.

"Oh God Greg," I quietly moaned as he slowly slipped into me. Greg's rhythm was quick and hungry and I met his tempo, grinding my hips against his, allowing him to get deeper and deeper with each thrust. After an eternity of pure ecstasy, I felt him release into me and that was all I needed to send me over the edge. He had a cute little smile of accomplishment on his face as he felt me trembling underneath him, riding the wave of my orgasm.

He leaned down and gave me a kiss, lingering on my lips, savoring the taste. It was a lazy kiss, his exhaustion evident as he collapsed at my side. I rolled over to him, wrapping my arms around him, pulling me close. Then, without saying one more word to each other, we fell asleep in each other's arms. No words needed to be spoken. Just knowing the other was there was enough for us.

******************************************************************************************************************************

I rolled over in bed, my hand falling on empty space. Noticing Greg was no longer in bed I slightly panicked, worried I had accidentally slept in. I looked over at the clock on the nightstand and saw that it was only 2:30 in the morning. Curious as to where Greg ran off to, I climbed out of bed, throwing on a bathrobe as I walked into the living room. Greg was unevenly pacing around the room, without his cane, talking on the phone in a British accent.

"Oh, how terribly foolish of me doctor, is it that late? Yes I'm calling from London, you see, must have got my times mixed up," Greg was saying into the phone.

I plopped down on the couch, pulling my legs underneath myself. Greg threw the phone on the table in frustration.

"Asshole hung up on me," he mumbled.

"What are you doing?" I asked, sleepily, as he sat down next to me, looking through a thick notebook and medical files.

"My patient's not crazy," he muttered, not really noticing me, as he shuffled through some papers.

"Greg, its 2:30 in the morning, come back to bed." He ignored me, so I decided to test just how zoned out he was. "Actually, what I really think we should do is go back to bed so I can suck your cock until you come." He didn't even flinch. He wasn't listening to me. He was deep in thought and nothing I could say to him when he was in this state ever pushed him out of it. He must have had a breakthrough in his thought process in the middle of the night.

Finally finding the file he was looking for, he circled a name triumphantly, "It's Wilson's disease," he mumbled to myself.

"You're going back into work, aren't you?" I asked, disappointed.

He looked over at me as if he was seeing me for the first time. "What are you doing awake?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "I noticed you were gone."

"I have to go in," he said, gathering up the files.

"Cure your patient in the morning. Come back to bed," I pleaded with him, even though I knew it was a lost cause. He was in an obsessive mood.

"What person who is nothing like me are you talking to?" he asked a goofy grin on his face.

"Well, I'm going back to bed," I said standing up.

"Yeah, okay," he answered already back in his obsessive trance. "Oh and when you get to work, come by my office. You can give me that blow job you were telling me about," he said, a smartass look on his face.

"Jackass," I said, smiling.


	14. Hymn to Freedom

**AN: I don't own House or any of the characters on the show. Sorry this is a short chapter. Thank you all for sticking with this story and all of your awesome reviews! They are greatly appreciated!**

**Chapter Fourteen: Hymn to Freedom**

**The Next Day**

I walked up the steps to our apartment. It had been a long day of board meetings, committee meetings and incompetent doctors whom I had to clean up after. Greg had gone home hours earlier having cured his patient. As I approached the door, I heard the melody of "Hymn to Freedom" being played on a piano wafting into the silent night. Opening the door, I was greeted by Greg playing the piano. Seeing him at the piano and hearing him play always made my heart melt. He was just too sexy and I had a thing for musicians. He looked up at the opening of the door and greeted me with a smile. I put down my briefcase and took off my overcoat. Slipping out of my shoes, I padded over to the piano.

Draping my arms around his neck and resting my chin on his shoulder, I said, "That's beautiful."

He nodded his head at me. "It was first recorded by the Oscar Peterson Trio and was released on the album _Night Train_ in 1962. It was one of the first songs I learned to play on the piano.

As he stopped playing, resting his hands on the keys, I gave him a little kiss on the cheek. "Are you hungry?" I asked.

"Depends on what we're having," he answered, starting to play again.

I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. It was pathetically empty. We had some orange juice, beer and two slices of turkey. Definitely unappetizing. Not feeling like making anything and definitely not wanting to go to the store, I grabbed the take out menus from one of the drawers.

"Do you want to order in?" I asked, taking a seat on the couch.

"Sure," he said, improvising over a blues riff.

I lay down on the couch. "Can you order? I'm exhausted from barfing my guts out all day."

"God, you're needy," he told me with a smile, limping from the piano over to where I was.

As he made a phone call, ordering in a pizza, I made room for him on the couch, resting my head on his left leg. He placed a hand on my stomach and just let it rest there. I grabbed his hand in both of mine and began absently playing with his wedding ring, turning it around and around on his finger. I had never pegged Greg for one of those sentimental types, but he has never taken that ring off since I put it on his finger at our ceremony. It was a little gesture that spoke volumes about his feelings for me.

"Your test results came back today. Everything looks perfect, nothing to worry about," he told me, nonchalantly.

"That's great." I smiled a little to myself.

"Although, now that we know you are carrying twins, I'll do checkups every three weeks or so. And," he leaned backwards and using his cane, hooked his blazer and tossed it towards us. When he caught it, he pulled a couple of pamphlets from the inside pocket. "I stole these for you from the maternity ward." He handed me the pamphlets, tossing his blazer back onto the chair he got it from.

"You stole for me? How sweet!" I mocked him. I looked through the pamphlets. They were filled with information about correct nutrition and exercise during pregnancy. It was so thoughtful and exceptionally meaningful to me. "Thanks, Greg."

He shrugged his shoulders as if to say it was no big deal. "This way you won't have to bother me with all your questions."

I giggled at him, knowing full well that wasn't the reason he got those pamphlets for me. He got them because he was showing his support. "So it has been a couple of days since we found out. Do these pamphlets mean you are doing okay with everything?"

"Do we have to talk about it now?" he asked, exasperatedly.

"I knew you weren't going to be okay with this," I said, pulling my hands away from his.

Firmly grabbing me around my waist, silently telling me he wasn't accepting my bid at breaking physical contact, he said, "Is 'do we have to talk about it now' some kind of new slang for I don't want to have a baby with you?"

"The more we talk about it, the better we will feel about it."

"Okay, but we have nine months to talk. Can't we just sit here, watch some TV, and enjoy ourselves tonight?" he asked, shoving a pill in his mouth.

"There are some things we have to talk about now, like when we should tell our families, when should I go on maternity leave, will I go back to work and if so when, who should be my OB-" I was cut off by Greg.

"Hold on, you're getting ahead of yourself. The only issue we maybe, and I stress maybe, need to address right now is when we should tell people and I can answer that one right now: never," he said, fiddling with my hair.

I laughed at him. "Greg we have to tell our families. What happens when they visit and find two children living with us?"

"The kids' presence will be explanation enough. Don't you think?" he asked, only a tad sarcastically.

"Fine, if you don't want to talk about that, let's talk about doctory stuff. When is my morning sickness going to be done?"

He let out a chuckle. "For most women, it ends with the start of the second trimester."

We fell quiet for a few minutes. His hand lazily traced invisible lines over my torso.

"What am I supposed to feel?" he asked, breaking the silence.

I rolled over on my back so I could look up at him. "About what?"

"About the pregnancy," he said quietly, splaying his hand over my stomach, his long fingers almost completely covering the area.

"You are not obligated to feel anything in particular. You can feel whatever you want to feel."

He shook his head at me. "No. People who are meant to be parents feel a certain way about it."

I put my hand over his. "Greg, there is no right or wrong here."

"Of course there is," he snapped at me. He always got this way when situations were not as cut and dry as he thought they should be.

"Over the last few days, I have been annoyed, I have been scared, I have been excited, and most often, I have been angrier than I have been in a long time. Is that wrong?" I challenged him.

"It's not wrong to feel those things, but isn't it wrong to feel that way and still choose to have a baby?" he asked.

"I'm annoyed and angry that I wasn't more prepared and for being in this situation before I knew if I was ready. I'm not angry that we are going to have a baby, well two babies, actually."

"What if I'm angry?" he asked, barely above a whisper.

"Are you angry at the babies?" I asked, searching his face for any clue as to what he was thinking.

He rubbed his forehead with his fist and letting out a deep sigh said, "I'm angry that circumstances are forcing me to change."

"Well that will pass," I told him, assuredly.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you can't be angry at the passage of time forever. Things change and shit happens. There's nothing we can do about it."

He smiled at me, amused. "You should be a motivational speaker."

I playfully rolled my eyes at him. "You can feel whatever you want and come to terms with your emotions at your own pace. The only thing you need to figure out is whether or not you want children."

"Do I have to decide right now?" he whined.

"Well, you're running out of time. The longer you wait, the more attached I become to the little tadpoles growing in me," I told him, half-jokingly.

He leaned down to me, giving me a soft, tender kiss. "Go ahead and get attached," he said, a smile on his face.


	15. Gravity

**AN: I don't own House or any of the characters on the show. This chapter takes place during the 1st Season episode, Poison. Sorry it has been so long since I last updated! I have been crazy busy with school and work but I am back on track and expect to be updating much more frequently. Thank you all for sticking with this story and all of your awesome reviews! They are greatly appreciated!**

"_**Gravity is working against me**_

_**And gravity wants to bring me down."**_

**Chapter Fifteen: Gravity**

**Week Eight of the Pregnancy**

I was sitting at my desk, barely listening to Will as he rambled on about a new malpractice suit against the hospital. It had not been a fun morning. I had been puking all morning so I had to rush into work and was still late. It had been about a month since I had found out I was pregnant and I was still not used to this new routine. I had been in my office for all of ten minutes when Will and Annette, one of the other lawyers in the department, burst in, a flurry of activity. The case was huge and accused negligence against some doctor in the ICU. We had already been talking for over two hours and Annette did not seem to be letting up anytime soon.

"So I think we can shift blame from Dr. Morgan over to the brother because the brother knew his sister was getting worse, but did not bring her back in." Annette looked at me expectantly, waiting for a response.

I glanced over at her and when I realized it was time for me to speak, I quickly glanced down at the file. "Um, yeah, have we done depositions yet?" I asked, trying to figure out what she was talking about.

"No, not yet. I told you Dr. Morgan had only been served this morning. Is everything alright?" Will chimed in.

"I'm sorry. I didn't sleep well last night. I am having a little trouble concentrating." I rubbed my forehead. "Okay, Annette, why don't you take the lead on this one. I think that focusing on the brother is a great start."

"I am meeting with Dr. Cuddy and Dr. Morgan this afternoon. Did you want to be a part of that?" Annette looked down at her date book.

I was about to answer her when Greg burst into my office. "I need a court order."

Annette and Will looked at each other with a knowing look, used to Greg's random interruptions. I shook my head at him. "No, and I'm busy, so go away."

He leaned up against the wall, hooking his cane onto his left arm and grabbing for his pills with the other hand. "You're not busy and don't you want to know why I need a court order?" he asked, tossing two pills into his mouth.

Annette glanced between Greg and I and letting her curiosity get the better of her, she asked, "Why do you need a court order?"

I rolled my eyes, but she didn't catch it. Greg stared at her for a second, then turned to me and said, "See, she cares and I'm not giving her the sweet, sweet loving I give you."

"Well then you can get your court order from her," I said, watching Annette's response. While I supported and believed in Greg one hundred percent as his wife, professionally and legally, I couldn't always back him up. Annette had a look of horror on her face. I was the only lawyer in the hospital who would even go near any of Greg's cases.

Greg looked at Annette, "Well, can you get me one? I'm running short on time here."

Annette stood up and said, "Um, I'm sorry, Dr. House, but no. The ethical responsibility of being with you is not mine to bear. Ask your wife." She then turned to me and said, "I have my meeting with Dr. Cuddy and Dr. Morgan at 3 if you wanted to be there."

"Thanks, Annette. Will can you make sure I don't forget?"

Will nodded his head at me as he and Annette left the office. I waited until they had closed the door before I spoke to Greg. "Why on earth do you need a court order?"

Greg took a seat across from me. "Is it an ethical responsibility to be with me?" He studied my face.

"Sometimes. It is definitely not easy balancing being your lawyer with being your wife." I leaned back in my chair. "Now I thought this matter was time sensitive. Tell me what is going on."

He seemed satisfied with my answer. "Single mom won't let me treat her son," he said, slumping into his chair.

"Why not?"

He let out a deep sigh and said, "Because she's a control freak."

"Greg, you have got to give me more information," I said, starting to feel nauseous again.

"The mother insists we have no proof and have no idea what's wrong with her son."

"Is she right?" I asked.

"He has pesticide poisoning and needs to be treated immediately," he told me, frustrated.

I met his gaze. "Do you have confirmation?"

Looking around the office, he mumbled. "I have the can he used to spray his garden this morning."

"If this was your son, would you do it?" I asked calmly.

He gave me a disgusted look, "Oh, what kind of question is that?"

I leaned forward in my chair, "Greg, you are asking me to convince a judge to overrule a parent's wishes and allow a doctor to give a young boy drugs that could just as easily make him worse than better. I need to know how strongly you feel about this so I can protect you and this hospital the best way I can."

"The diagnosis fits. It's disulfoton poisoning." He glared at me, but I didn't care.

"Answer the question, Greg."

He looked away from me, "There is a risk that if it isn't disulfoton the hydrolase would bond to whatever kind of organophosphate it is and run rampant throughout his system. But we are right about the disulfoton."

"Nice deflection. I can't get you a court order. This is the mother's call," I said, placing my elbows on my desk and interlocking my fingers.

"You don't trust me?" he asked, accusingly.

"Greg, I am not your wife right now. I am your lawyer and I am telling you no judge will take power away from a parent without proof of negligence. From what you are telling me the mother isn't negligent, she is cautious. You have to figure something else out."

"So am I just supposed to let the kid die while I wait for the mother to come to her senses?" he asked, a little angry.

"No, you are supposed to find more convincing ways to get her to agree with you."

"It's not my job to convince her of her stupidity," he told me, rolling his eyes.

I leaned back in my chair again, folding my arms across my chest. "Greg, she is not stupid. She is a scared mother whose only son is dying."

He suddenly got a look on his face, extremely reminiscent of his Eureka moment look. "See you get it. You should talk to her. You have all kinds of maternal instincts now that you're pregnant. You understand wanting to protect your young."

"No. I will not talk to your patient's mother. I am not going to bully the poor woman just so you can play mad scientist with this child's life."

"When did you stop indulging my every whim?" he asked, a smirk on his face.

"I never indulged your every whim. I'm just extra bitchy now that I'm suffering morning sickness twenty four hours a day."

He shoved a pill into his mouth, resigned to the fact I wasn't going to help him. Suddenly his pager went off. Looking down at it on his belt, he said, "It looks like my patient just coded. How do you feel about that court order now?"

"Don't manipulate me. I wish you I could help you, really, but unless you prove the mother is incompetent there is nothing legally I can do. Now stop whining and figure out how to save your patient."

He stood up and left my office without saying another word. I knew he was upset with me for not doing what he wanted, but the great thing about us was that we could be mad as hell at each other for professional reasons, but were able to leave it out of our personal lives. I had honestly wanted to help, I trusted his medical judgment, but unfortunately it was not my job to do things because they were right. I had to do what was legally right and, very often the legal right and the right did not intersect.

*******************************************************************************************************************************************

It was seven o'clock in the evening and I was finally ready to head home. Gathering up my things, I made my way down the hall to Greg's office. He was sitting at his desk, in the dark, his feet up on the desk, and staring out his window at the falling snow. He absently twirled his cane between his fingers like a baton and had a look of extreme concentration on his face.

Placing my briefcase on a chair, I walked around the desk to face him. "Hi," I said, quietly.

Glancing up at me out of the corner of his eyes, he whispered back, "Hey."

"Meredith told me you cured your patient. Congratulations."

"No thanks to you," he said, turning his attention back to the snow.

I sat down at the edge of his desk. "Oh don't pout."

He gave me a soft smile. "Heading home?"

"Actually, James asked me if I wanted to grab some dinner with him and Meredith. Did you want to come?"

He lifted his right leg off his desk with his hands and his left leg followed. Standing up, he grabbed his cane and jacket and said, "Is Wilson paying?"

I let out a laugh. "I'm sure we can trick him into paying."

Greg grabbed his backpack, shoving a few things inside. We walked to the elevator and then down to my car in silence. I was exhausted and Greg was still deep in thought about something, although I could not figure out what. I drove us to a bar on the other side of the Princeton campus where we were meeting James and Meredith. We quickly found a parking spot and walked up to the front door.

I could see James and Meredith already sitting at a booth in a corner away from the main bar. As Greg pulled open the door for me, I placed a hand on his arm and said, "Greg, is everything okay? You've been rather quiet."

He nodded his head. "Everything's fantastic. I've just been too distracted by your 36Cs being stuffed into your 34B bra to speak."

Deciding to take his deflection as a clue to his mood, I let it go. "My breasts have grown, haven't they?"

"They're busting out of that blouse. One false move and they'll be free," he told me with a smile.

"Let's just go in," I said, patting him on his arm.

We walked over to the booth James and Meredith were sitting at. Meredith looked great. She was now well into her second trimester and she glowed with her new body, wearing empire cut tops and cute dresses that showed off her rounded belly. The booth was shaped in a half moon, so I slid in next to James so Greg could sit on the edge.

"I only came because I was promised a free meal," Greg said to James.

Meredith looked over at Greg. "Well of course, House. We wouldn't expect you to pay."

"Oh so clever. That would have worked if I had any shame," Greg shot back at her.

"Hi Isabella. How are you doing?" James asked me, ignoring our sniping spouses.

I chuckled a little. "I'm doing great, James. How are you?"

"It's not called shameless, House. It's called cheapness," Meredith continued.

"Fantastic." James handed me two menus.

I gave Greg the other menu. "Stop baiting your employee and find something to eat."

"Why do you always have to ruin my fun?" he asked, a fake whine in his voice.

The table fell into silence as we perused the menu. "Ooh, I want these beer battered fish and chips!" I exclaimed.

Greg gave me an appalled look. "You can't eat beer battered fish."

"But I am craving them and all the pregnancy books say that if you are craving something you should eat it. Right, Meredith?"

Meredith looked over at James and then looked down at her menu. "I'm not getting involved."

"First of all, they are called BEER battered fish. You shouldn't be taking the chance of any alcohol, especially considering you drank heavily up until you found out you were pregnant. Second of all, I wouldn't trust a bar to properly cook seafood," Greg said, clearly annoyed.

"I'll give you the beer batter argument, but the fish will be deep fried," I told him.

"Just have a burger and stop whining," he said as the waiter came up to our table.

We all ordered. I ended up getting a burger, nice and well done at Greg's insistence. Meredith and James both got salads, which Greg teased them endlessly about. He ordered a Reuben with fries.

"So how do you guys feel now that you have had time to digest?" Meredith asked.

"I'm going to need a beer if we are going to talk about feelings," Greg said to me.

"Then go get one," I told him. Then, turning back to Meredith I said, "It is still a little bizarre. I cannot believe that I am going to have twins, but it is a good bizarre."

Deciding to wait for the waiter to come back, Greg interjected, "Waking up with your head stapled to the floor produces the same feelings as finding out you're going to be a parent."

I looked over at Greg, trying to figure out if he was deflecting because he didn't want to ruin his reputation or if he was actually being serious. I couldn't tell, but he wouldn't look at me, which was never a good sign. "Yeah, we are definitely still in a state of shock over the whole thing, but we are managing."

"Finding out Mere was pregnant was one of the happiest moments of my life," James said.

"That's because a child will be your own personal need machine, the neediness never wears off, unlike your relationships with adults," Greg sniped.

"Does that mean your neediness will eventually wear off?" James responded.

Greg made a face at James. After the waiter brought him his beer, Greg said, "Enough baby talk. Let's gossip about that weird nurse in radiology."

"How could you not want to talk about your babies?" Meredith asked him, incredulously.

"They are not babies. They are zygotes that have done absolutely nothing yet. What is so fascinating about them?" Greg spat out at her.

Sensing his temper flaring up, I stepped in. "Meredith, we appreciate your excitement, but we are not really there yet."

Greg suddenly turned on me. "I don't need you to apologize for me or explain away my actions, Isabella."

"Greg, what the fuck is the matter with you? Are you out of pills or something?" I snapped at him.

Greg suddenly stood up. "I'll see you at home."

As I watched him walk out of the restaurant, I looked over at James and Meredith in shock. "What the hell was that about?" Meredith asked me.

I shook my head at them. "I don't know. I refused to get him a court order earlier today, but I can't imagine he is still upset about that."

"House is House. Who knows what goes on in his rat maze of a brain?" James muttered to me.

I reached into my purse and threw $30 on the table. "I'm going to take the food to go. I better get home and see what's up Mr. Moody's butt."

"Good luck. If you need a cooling off place, you know where we live," James said, giving my hand a squeeze.

"Thanks guys. Sorry about this," I said, standing up and leaving the restaurant.

*******************************************************************************************************************************************

When I got home, I found Greg sitting on the couch, a glass of scotch in his hand, watching a monster truck rally. Throwing the Styrofoam containers on the coffee table, I said, "Here's your food."

Without looking at me, he mumbled "Thanks" before taking a sip of his scotch.

I sat down on the edge of the coffee table, forcing him to look at me. "Greg, what is going on?"

Meeting my gaze, he said, "Nothing."

"Nothing? You snapped at me over nothing?"

"I just don't see why we have to talk about the pregnancy all the time."

"Are you ever going to be okay with this?" I asked, a little nervous about what his answer might be.

He rolled his eyes at me. "Bella, I am okay with this, I just don't want to talk about it every waking moment of the day, especially not with Dr. Barbie."

"Are you sure that is all this is?"

He took another sip of his scotch. "Yes. Now can I just watch my monster truck rally in silence? Please?"

I stood up. "Fine. I'm going to bed."

"Good night," he said with very little love, grabbing his sandwich.

"Good night." I went to the bedroom, worried that Greg and I would never be able to have a normal conversation about the pregnancy and the impending birth.


End file.
